Eudaimonia - Phan
by isthisjustphantasy
Summary: Dystopian AU (see prologue) The year is 2093 and humanity has moved into Sterile Zones where physical relationships are impossible. Dan and Phil leave the city, in the full knowledge that they will die without proper sterilization, so as to be together and see the world. No major triggers, lots of camping and also a beach wedding YEY. This was written for the phandom big bang.
1. Prologue

What do you do when the world tries to kill you?

The year is 2098, and things have changed. It wasn't an apocalypse like in the movies or the books; rather the slow and hopeless descent into a new way of living. Humans are resilient – they're like cockroaches, weaving their way into even the most hostile of terrains and finding ways to carry on no matter what the planet throws at them. This decline however was brought on by the humans themselves. It was their own delves into complexities of medicine without foresight or care that created the superbugs. Antibacterial hand gel at every corner; disinfectant for a tiny spill and chemicals in the water. Because the bacteria likes to fight too and the more they threw at it the more it evolved until the race of higher intelligence realised their mistake; only now it was too late.

In December of 2014 all known antibiotics against bacterial infections that had evolved resistant abilities were declared ineffective. It began in the hospitals with MRSA - a strain of a common bacteria found on the skin that worked its way into wounds and blood. New measures were brought into healthcare in an attempt to prevent the spread of infection and a whole ward was closed in Sussex when a nurse dropped dead from a paper cut. But it wasn't just staphylococcus aureus that was fighting back; it was bacteria across the globe. With nothing to fight infection the only possible course of action was to attempt to prevent it; and when life expectancy dropped to just 35 the borough of New London was declared the first sterile zone in Britain. Disinfection Stations (DSs) were installed throughout the city and protective clothing was issued to anyone entering the zone to prevent airborne or contact infection. As more and more people flocked to the safety of the high, aseptic walls; the Zone was forced to expand until it encompassed an area half the size of the almost abandoned City of London.

Outside of the zone things were going from bad to worse with most pregnancies leading to death of both mother and child the population fell dramatically. Foetuses were grown in labs in an attempt to keep the population up as in the sterile zones physical relationships were strictly forbidden – not only for the reason that both participants would probably die sooner or later. Sterile zones blossomed across the globe as the only possible mode of survival and by 2038 all major colonisations had either died out completely or transferred.

It was into this world that Phil Lester was born, a test tube baby like the rest and oblivious to life outside the restraints of the white walls that bound the city. He grew up like the rest too, on formula milk in a special nursery unit where harassed carers attempted to raise hundreds of toddlers at an arm's length. The hardest part was trying to teach the babies social interaction without letting them get too close to one another. The children reacted in different ways; some becoming aggressive and temperamental while others – like Phil – grew to be withdrawn and shy, endlessly perplexed by the world they were brought into. He responded by living in his own world whenever possible; whether it was simpler or intensely more magical the nurses never knew but at least in his silence he wasn't causing any trouble. Phil never knew human touch until a midwife named Mabel – one of the last to move into a Sterile Zone – picked him out of his cot one morning (while the other carers were at lunch) and held him close to her chest and wept.

When Phil was 12 he was given a shot to lower his hormone levels and prevent unwanted sexual desires to make life with abstinence easier for the adolescents. They were told to come back every five years for a top up and explained that without it they would get incredibly frustrated and end up doing something stupid and getting sick. Most adults opted for the shots now as without them life strayed close to the edges of hell. After all, it wasn't very different to the drugs the population already used to control mood and mental state.

Psychotropic control packs. They were attached catheter like directly to the arm. Small, black boxes - innocent enough to the naked eye - provided constant access to the bloodstream. A computer chip, a couple of sensors and a cocktail of drugs was all that was needed to keep the population compliant and euphoric as they donned their protective suits and masks each morning. With the constant fear of infection just from being in the same room as someone else there were no laws needed to ensure that skin to skin contact was avoided, but emotionally it was draining. The usage of antidepressants and other psychoactive drugs shot up until 100% of the population needed medication to cope without physical relationships, so control packs were just a matter of course. Today, every negative moodlet is carefully monitored and treated with the appropriate dose of a counter chemical. Fear, pain and grief are no more. After all, everyone wants to be happy.

Humanity existed in a state of mild euphoria: walking the pavement in lanes to prevent brushing against strangers who might not have disinfected in a while and working in the pristine, white and 100% aseptic city of Greater New London.

When he was 15 Phil was moved to a boarding college to begin his education. It was here that he met Dan Howell. Dan was different. He'd been taken from his nursery cot at a very young age by a carer who wanted nothing more than a child of her own. She had broken all the rules to raise Dan – even making skin contact on multiple occasions and removing her protective mask to kiss him. She was a Refuser. She wouldn't take the psychodrugs or the hormone balancers and begged anyone that would listen to follow in her footsteps. When they found out she'd broken one of the most fundamental rules in order to raise Dan, he was taken from her and put back into mass care. She was diagnosed with severe psychosis; depression and schizophrenia. She takes the psychodrugs now, and she walks the streets with a smile on her face.

Dan and Phil spoke for the first time when they were 17. The boys in their dormitory were going through a Disinfection Station in preparation for their booster jabs, and Dan was stood on a chair gesturing emphatically to their sceptical faces. He'd never had a hormone jab, and he didn't ever want to.

"This isn't the bloody middle ages." A boy named Sam scoffed. "We've evolved to get rid of all the dirty, primitive stuff. Personally I have no desire to shove my penis inside someone else and I don't want to ever feel that urge. Who the hell thought that was a good idea in the first place?! thTt's so grim. We're way more sophisticated than that now."

Dan ran a frustrated hand through his messy brown locks. "How do you know if you've never tried? Just, give it a chance? You can get your jab whenever you want if you decide you don't like it. Literally, why not try everything? Live life on the edge for a bit?"

"Because I don't want to die." Sam rolled his eyes. "Say we did like it after all. Then what?! It's not like we can act on it, we'd go crazy! You're being ridiculous. It's fine to have your own beliefs and values, but don't force them down the throats of others."

Dan's shoulders slumped and he sat down on the chair, burying his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that I just – I wanted to make sure you'd considered the alternatives. That's all."

"That's fine, and you're perfectly welcome to your 'alternative' medicine and way of life, but I for one am content just as I am cheers." Sam breezed out of the room with a roll of his eyes and slowly the other boys followed suit, a few casting apologetic glances at Dan.

One stayed behind. He had wide blue eyes and a shock of black hair that stuck out at odd angles no matter how he tried to smooth it down.

"I'll try." Said Phil Lester.

Dan jumped at the sound of his voice; and then he smiled.

Maybe it was because he was the only boy in that room besides Dan who'd experienced the love of human touch or the soft pressure of a kiss, or maybe it was just because Dan's brown eyes had drawn Phil in from the moment he'd stormed through those doors five years earlier with murder in his glare; but for whatever reason Phil decided that day to give life, humanity and Dan Howell a chance.


	2. Chapter 1

Eudaimonia True, complete happiness and wellbeing. Ancient Greek philosophy accredited to Aristotle: the belief that the meaning of life is to achieve Eudaimonia; a word not directly translating to happiness ('happy' being simply an emotional state) and applying instead to a balance and journey of life.

"I think you should do whatever you have to do to be happy," Dan said.

"Even if it means leaving behind everything you know? Even if it could cause unhappiness later, or even death? Short term happiness, or a forever of mediocrity?" Phil listened to the smooth purr of a train on the tracks above their head. The carriage was a sleek, matte white that seemed to fade into the clouds from this vantage point.

Beside him Dan shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to follow the motion of the train as it disappeared out of sight. "I said 'whatever you have to do', didn't I? You do realise that, thanks to these, we've never known true happiness." Dan gestured to the control pack on his arm.

"I dunno," Phil shrugged. "I'm pretty happy right now."

"Yeah, but this is just an emotion, you can make yourself feel this just by pressing one of these buttons. I could turn this back on right now and immediately have a big grin plastered all over my face. That's not doing it properly though, I mean really seriously finding happiness the old fashioned way. Doing actual things that make you feel things. Like when we read that really old horror book at the library and you nearly bit half your lip off. Because you'd never felt scared before, the control pack always counteracted it to make you happy again. But it was a good scared. You kept reading, you didn't want your pack back on. Doesn't that maybe make you think that this could apply to all the emotions? Not actually wanting to turn them off, even if they're not happiness. Because in a weird way being scared made me happy. Like, it was an exciting happy. Nothing like what my pack makes me feel like. It was new. And there's so much more new out there."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Phil frowned.

"I don't know if I want to become an all-out refuser and wear weird badges and hippy scarves, I just want to experience a bit more of what this body has to offer. Even if it isn't all good."

He lay back down on the pale grass by Phil's side. Here they were hidden from the thrum of the city by the railway tracks that weaved and criss-crossed over their heads.

"You know what I want?" he said suddenly. "I want to cry. Like in the pictures. It's so crazy when you think about it, you just experience so much emotion that actual liquid bleeds out of your eyes. I mean, why the eyes?"

"Okay." Phil raised an eyebrow, looking up at Dan from under his floppy fringe. "Let's make it our mission to cry. Why not? We've only got one day left according to our pact. We're going to have to find something old to make us sad though, old things are the only ones with real emotions in them. How about a movie? We've done books and music."

"Yeah alright. We better do some research then – old school movies to make you cry."

"You're on. Cinema tomorrow?"

"It's a date."

Suddenly, Phil grinned.

They didn't get to watch their sad movie thanks to a stroppy security guard and a broken Disinfection Station. Instead, they returned to their favourite spot under the train tracks, because here no one could stare in horror at the proximity to one another in which they sat and the peals of free laughter that came from their lungs.

"So, how are you finding life with hormones?" Dan asked.

"Not much different yet," Phil shrugged. "I certainly haven't been flinging myself on random women in the street."

"Maybe you like men." Dan smiled. "I do."

"Really? How do you tell?" Phil asked.

"It's not like a button that just switches on like 'wow guys are hot'. You just slowly start noticing things about them. Their eyes. Jawlines. Shoulders. Lips." As he listed, Dan allowed his eyes to pan slowly and deliberately over each part on Phil.

Phil giggled. "Shut up. What is it about their eyes? They're what you see out of. I don't get it."

"Aren't they kind of beautiful though? You can tell so much about a person from them. Most of their emotions come from the eyes. Have you noticed yet? I have. We're not used to emotions so it's all the more fascinating." Dan stared steadily into Phil's eyes, a smile playing across his lips.

Phil stared back intently. "You're right. I didn't think about that before. Like, your eyes are really pretty when they're all scrunched up because you're laughing."

"And your eyes are really pretty when they're concentrating." Dan was laughing at Phil's expression: absorbed in his study of Dan's facial features, biting his lower lip in concentration.

"Your skin is pretty too," Phil said, paying no attention to Dan. "It's all smooth and brown. Like a golden panda. It looks soft. I wish I could touch it. Did that sound weird?"

Dan giggled. "Not weird. I wish I could touch your hair. It's all floppy and silky and black."

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Yeah."

"I dye it. I'm actually sort of ginger."

"No way!" Dan laughed. "That's brilliant. Ginger Phil. I bet you're beautiful."

"Oh god no," Phil cringed. "It looks awful, trust me. Now it's your turn. Tell me a secret."

Dan contemplated for a moment. "Okay, this one's a bit weird. I kind of want to touch your lips. They look really soft, too. Pink and smooth. Sorry. That one's a bit creepy."

"No, it's okay," Phil frowned. "I kind of do too. Your lips I mean. I kind of want to kiss them. Just to see what it's like. I mean, it looks nice – kissing. In the movies."

"It's too bad, huh," Dan sighed, rolling back on the grass.

"Yeah. Too bad," Phil said quietly, still staring with a crease between his brow at Dan.

When Phil slipped his gloved hand into Dan's, both men were surprised.

"Sorry!" Phil gasped, making to pull his hand away, but Dan held fast.

"No it's okay. It's nice." He smiled tentatively.

"But, we could get infected," Phil whispered.

"We're wearing protective suits."

"They're not 100% effective."

"You sound like one of those health manuals. Who cares?"

Phil opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words emerged.

Dan stared back almost fiercely. "I mean it," he continued quietly. "I don't care."

Phil still didn't say anything; he just gave Dan's hand a cautious squeeze.

"What does your hair feel like?" Phil asked.

"It's actually curly."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's really embarrassing. I straighten it every day so it's kind of dead."

"Same. I wanna see your hair curly."

"I wanna see your hair ginger."

"No way!"

"Exactly."

Phil frowned. "It's not the same," he grumbled under his breath.

He lay back on the grassy bank, picking Dan's hand up from a bed of daisies and lifting it to his eyes to examine. He ran his fingers over the pale blue latex, pulling and bending Dan's fingers.

"What are you doing?" Dan asked, amused.

"Trying to picture what your skin's like under here," Phil replied. "I reckon your hands are pretty too. Smooth and soft. Long, thin fingers that are really strong and supple from playing the piano all the time."

"You overestimate me," Dan laughed. "My hands are pretty average. They're just hands."

"No they're not. They're your hands. That makes them special."

Dan's face lifted into a grin. "Oh you. Quite the charmer. What have I unleashed on the world?! I should never have led you astray. So do you like guys then? Girls? Both?"

"I think…" Phil frowned. "I'm not really sure. I'm new to all this. I think… Well, I like you. I'm not really sure about other guys and girls and stuff but I'm pretty sure about you."

Dan's mouth fell open. "Really?"

"Really really."

"Oh."

"Is that okay? Sorry, I don't know if that's what you're supposed to do."

"No it's fine. It's more than fine, it's good actually. Because I- um, I like you too. Since the first day we turned our control packs off really." Dan blushed.

"Oh. Well, that's good then. Now what?"

"I don't really know," Dan admitted. "If this was the olden days we'd kiss or something, but we can't do that, can we." He gestured to their protective suits.

"Isn't this the part where we say to hell with all that, fling off our suits and make passionate love into the sunset though?" Phil giggled.

Dan sniggered. "Neither of us would have a clue what to do. Anyway, we can't take these off. That's why a lot of refusers end up killing themselves or leaving the city to go and live in the wild. It would be selfish really. We live here on the condition that we do everything we can to protect everyone else, and in return we get their protection. To do anything that could spread infection wouldn't just be dooming us. It would be so easy for someone here to kill, like, everyone."

"Okay. No passionate lovemaking today. How about a hug?"

"That's probably pushing it," Dan sighed. "How about when we get home we hug really tight and then jump straight into the DS?"

"Sounds like a plan." Phil agreed.

They lay in silence for a moment, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky.

"That one looks like an elephant. Look, there's the trunk. It's only got three legs but we'll worry about that later. It's even got a little tail." Dan smiled up at the sky.

"And over there's a magic hairdryer."

"What?" Dan snorted.

"Look. It's got wings."

"It looks more like a spoon with a blob on it to me."

"That's boring, you have to use your imagination Dan!"

Dan giggled. "Okay, that one over there looks like a flaminkiborp."

"I see it," Phil nodded knowledgably. "You can tell by the purple spots."

"It's all white!" Dan laughed.

"You're really not getting the hang of this are you?" Phil sighed sadly, shaking his head.

Dan dissolved into giggles, curling up on his side and poking Phil in the ribs. "You're an idiot, Phil Lester. A big buffoon."

"There's a buffoon up there to, to the left of that hover car."

"How can you tell it's a hover car?"

"You have to look into its soul and find the hover," Phil said wisely. "Of course it just looks like a normal car on the outside."

"Oh god," Dan laughed. "We're nearly adults!"

"New born babies in the emotional world though, don't forget," Phil smiled, his hand slipping into Dan's. "I see a rabbit."

"Volcano."

"Erupted volcano."

"A group of children half dissolved by the lava. Hence the lack of arms. And the screaming."

"A bird with a unicorn horn."

"A unibird. Or is it a birdicorn?"

"I like birdicorn," Phil said, pausing for a moment. "Dan. What do we do now?"

Dan's hand held tightly to Phil's. "I don't know. I really don't know."

"I don't ever want to turn my control pack on again. Because if I do, I'll stop feeling like this."

"I know. Me neither."

"I guess we're refusers now then, huh?"

"I don't think that'll be enough though," Dan sighed, rolling over to face Phil, just a few blades of grass between their face masks. "I want to touch you. I want to hold you in my arms. I want to kiss you. I think, I think I want to be with you Phil. Like, properly."

"Just like we can't here," Phil said quietly.

"Just like we can't," Dan agreed. He rolled back to face the sky. "I see a cloud."


	3. Chapter 2

"So. It comes down to a simple choice." Dan said. "We head out into the Wildlands and we die, or we stay here trapped inside our sticky plastic suits."

They were on their way back from their first visit to the weekly refuser meetings, held in an old church near their dorm building. They had hoped that these people would hold all the answers and present some sort of beautiful future here in the city. In reality, they were all old and sad and struggling. Many of them turned their control packs on several times a week to fight off the crushing depression presented by living in a city of zombies. The majority of the group were people too old to leave the city now, convinced they would drop dead within a day of stepping out the city gates.

"We could always turn our control packs back on," Phil said darkly. "That would get rid of our problem nice and quickly."

"Yup," Dan sighed. "And we'd probably never turn them back off again. And if we did, would we still feel the same way about each other? If you think about it, we've no idea what they're actually doing to our brains. We've had them since birth."

Phil shuddered. "How long do you think we'd last out there?"

"We've got no way of knowing do we? They only people who do are the ones that have left. It's kinda like dying." Dan winced.

"Once you get infected it'll be a few months before it can actually kill you," Phil mused.

"It's still basically suicide though. Suicide for love, like Romeo and Juliet."

Phil nodded. "Do you reckon if we read it again we'd cry? I mean, they both die at the end and we have emotions now so it would probably be sad…? Like, when someone you know dies you have to go get special grief top-ups for your control packs. For like a whole week's mourning period. That's a long time isn't it? I can't imagine feeling sad for a week."

"That would be horrible," Dan agreed. "We never got to cry though, we don't actually know what sad feels like."

"I feel pretty sad when I think about not ever being able to kiss you or anything," Phil said quietly.

"Same."

"Do you think we'll do it? Become full blown naturalists and leave the city? Because out there we'll die physically, but in here we'll die – emotionally I guess. It's the worst combination. Suddenly having something sad in your life whilst also suddenly being able to feel it."

"When you put it that way, it doesn't really seem like we have a choice," Dan murmured, glancing back towards the church. "I don't want to become like them. Anyway, lots of refusers end up going mad with being cooped up here and killing themselves. If we're going to die anyway we might as well make the most of whatever life we have."

"We only get one. I don't want to die, Dan, it scares me. But I'm not going to waste my life either. I know we've only like known each other properly a few weeks, but I think I love you. I think I'm in love with you, Dan."

"Just like Romeo and Juliet," Dan grinned. "Overdramatic, angsty teens falling in love and killing themselves over it in just a couple of weeks."

"It does seem kind of embarrassing and stupid when you put it like that," Phil admitted.

"I don't think there's anything stupid about wanting to make the most of your life," Dan said softly.

"Are we going to do it then?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"We need to be completely sure first though. And prepared. There's nothing to gain from rushing into it."

"Okay. Preparation. Phil?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you too."

* * *

Maybe it was the sudden influx of emotions going to their heads or maybe it was the giddy feeling of new love, but for whatever reason their minds were made almost immediately. There would be no going back now.

* * *

x

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Phil jumped at the sound of Dan's voice behind him. "Researching. For our trip."

They spoke about it as if planning a holiday somewhere sunny. Somehow it made the concept sit easier in their minds.

"Watcha researching, Philip?"

Phil's response was whispered, his skin reddening suddenly as he glanced around the busy library.

"I didn't catch that," Dan grinned, bending closer to Phil's face mask.

"How to… have sex," Phil muttered.

Dan snorted, ducking down suddenly behind the desk as a few students looked up in surprise at the noise. "Do you not learn that in biology?" he whispered.

"Well, yeah, we learn about primitive reproduction. You know, involving a male and a female. Not much use to us. And anyway, I get the feeling there's more to it than the basic mechanics they teach us."

"Well, how's the research going?"

"It's absolutely terrifying."

"What?" The smirk faded slowly from Dan's face.

"Look at this."

"Oh Jesus."

* * *

x

* * *

"We intend to leave the city. We turned our control packs off four weeks ago, and we've thought long and hard about it." Dan held his breath, but there was no surprise in their supervisor's eyes.

"I knew something like this would happen of course," she said sadly. "I've seen you spending an unnatural amount of time together. I won't bore you with a lecture as you're both educated young men and I'm sure you are aware of what it will mean. It will be a shame to loose such valuable members of our community. Do you have a departure date in mind?"

Dan turned uncertainly to Phil. "Some time next month, if possible?"

Phil nodded, and the supervisor tapped briskly on her keyboard. "How does the twenty eighth sound? I can schedule a gate opening for 1pm at the East Gate or 4pm at the South."

"Um, we haven't really thought where we're heading, but the twenty-eighth sounds good. East?"

"No problem. A fair amount of paperwork will need to be in order first ,of course, such as confirmation of your withdrawal from the education system and the work placements you had booked. Your citizenship and identification papers will automatically be revoked. If you should wish to return, you will be reassessed and I cannot guarantee re-entry. Do you still wish to continue with the emigration process?"

Hearing the words made it seem so much more final, but together they took a deep breath and nodded.

"You will be able to change your mind up to thirty minutes before departure, because opening the gates is costly and not to be treated lightly as it puts the whole city at risk." She sighed. "I have been your supervisor since you were both very young. I did not wish it to end this way - you both had such promising futures ahead of you. No matter. I can see you are quite firm in your decision. You will of course need to prepare carefully to stand any hope of survival. It's not just bacteria that presents hostility in the Wildlands. There are untamed animals and of course you may even come across other naturalists. I've heard some live many months outside, and there are a lot of Sterile Zones here in the South."

"Survivors too, if you believe the stories." Dan attempted a grin.

"You would do well to believe them," the supervisor replied coldly. "They are not mere child's tales. In my youth, I worked on the West Gate for a winter. They came right up to the walls. Three of them. Like wild beasts. Certainly not human. I believe they wanted food and parts for a broken generator, but it was almost impossible to make out any words in their feral screams. Fearsome creatures like nothing I've ever seen before." She shuddered, but a wave of calm seemed to almost visibly wash over her and she smiled. "Not to worry though. You won't be living long enough to encounter the likes of that. Now, I have some forms you'll need to sign in order to set the process into motion."

x

* * *

The twenty-eighth was a Saturday, and it dawned bright and cheerful. Dan was sure that if it weren't for the thin wire mesh that covered the whole city to stop them getting in, the birds would have been singing.

* * *

x

* * *

Even the very air felt different. And there was so much of it. As far as their eyes could see there was open space; flat, dry ground with a few tufts of grass springing up out of the cracks. A line of conifer trees in the distance. The gates swung shut behind them with a heavy clang and the familiar whoosh of disinfectant sprays.

"You know," Dan said after a moment, "that's the last time we're ever going to hear that noise."

"I know." Phil turned to him with a grin. "Isn't it amazing?"

A smile was spreading across his face with uncontrollable glee. Suddenly, he ripped off the thin suit that covered his body and flung the face mask into the bushes with a whoop. He kicked off his shoes, scooping them up into his arms and setting off at a sprint towards the trees.

"Come on Dan! The grass between your toes feels amazing. And the wind in your face. Run!"

Dan was already running and quickly gaining on Phil, revelling in the feeling of the fresh air in his lungs. Suddenly he was upon Phil: barrelling into him and knocking him into the ground. His arms were wrapped round his shoulders, squeezing with all his might, burying his face into the fabric of Phil's shirt. Phil was twisting round in his grip, winding his fingers through Dan's russet hair and reaching almost desperately for the smooth caramel of his skin. Before his fingers could touch Dan's face, Dan brought his hand up to clasp Phil's and both boys gasped like they'd been shocked. It certainly felt like an electric shock the moment their skin touched. A current seemed to flow through their entire bodies and suddenly they were clutching at each other with a desperate, feverish need. They rolled over and over, fighting for skin to skin contact, and in one swift movement their shirts were ripped off to lie abandoned in the grass.

Without a care for the city walls (still well in viewing distance) Dan rolled so that he lay on top of Phil, their beating hearts pressed close together and his breath warm on Phil's face.

"I love you," Dan said, and then he kissed him.


	4. Chapter 3

From a distance it was a silent white ribbon; frozen and motionless where it cascaded and twisted over the rocky outcrops. They hurried onwards, their eyes drawn hungrily to the glint of the sky reflected in the glass-like sheen. It was something they had never seen before. It was staggering and huge and even from a distance they could hear it thunder and crash. It was a waterfall of glacier melt.

As they approached, the roar deafened them until even their shouts were drowned in the surge. Closer still they drew until they were in the plume of water vapour that hung over the plunge pool and they were as wet as they would have been in any rainstorm. Their hair clung to their heads and around their faces but no amount of water could dampen their spirits. They stood in awe.

It was hard to think how it could possibly have looked so still and silent and serene from afar - torrents of water poured over rocks hard enough to crack a skull on the way down and where the rocks jutted out of the hillside great plumes of water shot angrily into the sky. From the bottom it was breathtaking; from the top it was brutal and terrifying. The clouds of spray soaked the sky and as they stared down at the tumult of churning water 50ft below, Phil's hand slipped into Dan's.

* * *

x

* * *

Phil was staring not at the waterfall but at Dan's eyes; deep and brown like the woods and the caramel tan of his skin. Rich and warm like the earth beneath their feet and the sparks from the fire that kept them safe at night; but now, they sparkled alight with a heat from somewhere inside. The spark of awe. Pure, innocent delight that warmed Phil better than any fireside. He was captivated. Wonder pulsed through his veins from his toes to the tiny part of reverence between his soft pink lips. Phil wasn't sure whether he wanted to kiss him or never to move again for fear of breaking the spell.

"Can we get closer?" Dan asked after a moment.

"Sure. Do you want to go back down? See what it looks like from the other side?"

"Okay."

They walked slowly, picking their way down the steep descent on all fours at times – clutching and scrabbling at the undergrowth but stopping frequently to admire the falls. They emerged from the thick bracken at the other side of the plunge pool where the water fell in a sheer drop straight into the churning froth. The drop was so vertical that it came away from the rock face, falling freely through the air in a wall of clear, rippling and undulating blue. Behind the shimmering curtain, the rocks were slick and black with water, and suddenly Phil was intrigued. The black was so absolute. It was hard to tell through the water whether there was any rock there at all. Maybe there was nothing.

This time it was Phil leading them onwards, closer and closer until the spray battered their faces and roared in their ears. The rocks were jagged and slippery here and Phil could feel Dan's tight grip on his sleeve, pulling him backwards. His lips were moving but Phil couldn't hear anything over the crash of the fall and he fought free of Dan's grip – leaping a small but treacherous gap and clinging on to the vines that twisted down over the rock face. From this ledge, he could see behind the waterfall. He was right. There was a space behind the waterfall, dark and cavernous and just tantalizingly out of his reach. He signalled to Dan to make the jump – eyes alight with excitement – and warily Dan followed, his face pale as he regained his balance and turned to look.

Speaking was pointless so they joined hands once more, feeling their way cautiously along the slippery ledge until they were completely out of the spray and treading still further into the side of the hill. From this vantage point the blue was an entirely different hue, tinted with colour that filtered through from the outside world. The glow of the sun lifted the highlights with tints of green and yellow. The lush canopy of trees stirred shades of emerald and azure while the brown of the earth mixed with all the colours creating reds and purples and auburn oranges that shimmered in a perfect rainbow of light.

The thick walls of rock muffled the rumble of the waterfall and Dan's voice echoed around the blackened space.

"Oh," he said.

"Yeah," Phil agreed.

* * *

x

* * *

Dan wasn't sure how long they'd been standing there, hand in hand, staring out through the curtain of water when they were interrupted rudely and loudly by two very naked teenagers bursting through the torrent of water with a whoop.

"Oh," the girl said. "Hi!"

Phil blazed bright red and covered his face, but Dan – staring determinedly at the ceiling – returned the greeting.

"Hey. Sorry, is this like, your place?"

"Um, yeah, I suppose so." The girl shrugged. "But that's okay. We've never seen anyone in these parts before so we didn't think we'd be running into anyone. I'm Leia and this is Cal."

"Hi."

"Hey."

"Hello."

"Hi."

Cal's hair was rusty brown and cropped short haggardly and haphazardly while Leia's tangled long and red and matted to her waist. Her green eyes sparkled with vitality and she had a scattering of freckles across her nose. Cal's eyes were large and brown, and they surveyed the pair with a thoughtful quietness.

"So," Leia said after a moment's silence. "Are you two together or…?"

Phil took a deep breath and looked her carefully in the eyes. "Er, yeah actually. We've only just left the city. How long have you been living out here?"

"No idea." Leia shrugged. "We haven't been timing it. I guess we kinda thought we'd just die as soon as we left. I mean some people do. That's why the clean freaks won't leave their little bleach bottle – they don't want to take the risk. But we did. I gotta say I think it was the best decision we ever made."

Cal nodded earnestly.

"So why did you leave?" Dan asked curiously.

"Sex," Leia responded immediately. "Seriously you guys need to try it. It's so worth it."

"We um, have. Er…" Phil glowed crimson again, staring furiously at his feet.

Dan sniggered. "So is that literally all you do all day?"

"Pretty much." Leia shrugged, unabashed. "By the way I recommend those big fleshy plants with the blue flowers – cut 'em open and there's all goo inside, and it doesn't give you a rash like most of this bloody forest."

Phil gasped in horror while Dan laughed. "Thanks. I'll bear that in mind."

Leia grinned. "I'm assuming that's what you're here for – it's one of our favourite spots, but the ground's feckin hard. We got a bit tired of the bruises - here – let me show you." With that, Leia disappeared into the cavernous darkness at the back of the cave.

Dan, Phil and Cal stood in an awkward silence by the fall. Leia's voice echoed all around them.

"Don't mind Cal, he doesn't talk much anymore after a snake bit half his bloody tongue off. I tell you, I don't mind the silence but I really do miss that tongue. The things it could do…"

Cal stuck out his mangled tongue proudly and Phil recoiled in horror. He was still cringing when Leia returned dragging a huge mattress weaved of rushes and palm fronds.

"Here you go. Just don't make a mess okay, it's a bitch to clean. And er, yeah sorry about the crusty bits. Like I said. Anyway, we'll be off – don't want to disturb! There's a pool just a bit down the river actually I think we'll go there – another recommendation if you're staying in the area. It goes over these really flat rocks and warms up so your dick doesn't shrivel up halfway through. Also no hypothermia which is a plus. It was nice to meet you, see you around!" She grabbed Cal by the hand and leapt face first through the wall of pounding water.

There was silence for a moment in the cave, bar the rumble of the river.

"Well," Phil said.

"I think we'll pass on the crusty mattress, don't you?" Dan winked.

* * *

x

* * *

They didn't see Cal and Leia for the rest of the evening, taking care to stay upstream as they searched for food.

"I think we should move on from here," Phil said as Dan fried a bony fish on a small camp fire.

"Agreed." Dan nodded, sprinkling some experimental herbs on the white belly. "I don't think those two would be much use as neighbours unless we were looking for an orgy. And anyway, there's not a lot of food here, I mean, do you see any other fish? I don't know, maybe it's the wrong time of year or whatever but anyhow I don't want to settle yet. There's so much left to see – let's set off again tomorrow. We've only been gone two days and we've already seen something we thought only existed in paintings. Like I didn't think it would really look like that. Waterfall. It's a nice word."

Phil took his measly portion of fish, the hot flesh scalding his mouth.

"Ow!" he said, surprised.

Dan chuckled. "You're going to have to get used to food being in any other form than mildly warm smoothies from now on. Also it's probably going to taste a whole lot worse than that at times." Dan laughed as Phil made a face, spitting the chewed fish onto the rocks. "Don't waste it! You'll regret it when you're hungry in the morning, silly."

Phil sighed. "You're okay, you were trained up from a young age. I want my cake-flavoured soup back."

"You know there's not actually any cake in that stuff, right?"

"Shh. You're such a vegan."

"I just caught a fish and bludgeoned it to death with a rock in the most inhumane way imaginable. Actually that's a point, we're going to have to get better at this. That wasn't fun at all."

"You should try breaking its neck," Phil said wisely. "it's the quickest death and fish have brittle bones, at least the non-cartilaginous ones do. Advanced biology."

"And how the hell do I do that?" Dan snorted, picturing Phil attempting to break the neck of a small, wriggling animal.

"I'm not sure actually," Phil admitted. "Snap its head backwards?"

"They're all slimy. How do I get hold?"

"Um… pull from the mouth?"

"Yeah and like break its jaw or something and leave it writhing around in agony."

"I don't even know if fish have jaws. Okay, maybe try the gill flaps? Like you can probably grab hold there, I don't know, I've never touched a fish. Gill flaps. They use counter current flow."

"How is that in any way relevant."

"I don't know. Can we stop talking about killing fish?"

"You started it. And someone's got to do it. What if it's like bunnies? Would you eat a bunny?"

"No!"

"I heard they're tasty."

"You can't eat a rabbit!"

"Well can you eat grass?"

"No, your stomach can't digest the cellulose. You'd just die eventually if you tried to live off it."

"Well then."

"I'm not killing any bunnies."

"I'm not doing all the killing."

"I did biology. You were the boring one who did physics and law so you're pretty useless. I can tell you what to do and then you do it."

"Did you learn how to catch a wild rabbit in your biology class?"

"No…"

"Just you wait. I'm going to catch a whole herd of rabbits and we can have rabbit stew and it will be beautiful." Dan winked.

"Rabbits don't come in herds. They come in droves. And sometimes colonies. Learn your collective nouns."

"Ew. You're such a nerd. And that's so weird, what's wrong with herds and flocks and schools and stuff?!"

"That's not the weirdest one. You know what you call a bunch of zebras?"

"What?"

"A dazzle."

Dan snorted. "That's brilliant. That's too good."

"Crows?"

"A whole heap of crows."

"No. Don't be stupid. Obviously it's a murder of crows." Phil was clearly enjoying himself.

"Well that's ominous. Jesus. Who thought that was a good idea?"

"To be fair, it is a cartload of chimpanzees."

"You're making these up."

"No! A* advanced biology here. I was going to do agricultural technology remember. If you hadn't whisked me off into the sunset."

"And I was going to do recreational drugs and become a delinquent but hey, we can't all have our happily ever afters." Dan shifted a little, then nodded towards the horizon. "Talking of sunset."

The sun was drowning behind the horizon, turning the sky to blood. Dan and Phil turned in silence to watch as a final drop of orange lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone. At once the clouds rolled in - first red, then mauve, silver, green, and black, as though all the colours in the world were being sucked over the horizon. The whispering of the leaves was almost hushed. All about them it was still and shadowy and sweet. It was that wonderful moment when, for lack of a visible horizon, the not yet darkened world seems infinitely greater and suddenly empty all at once. Dan shuffled down on his shoulders to rest his head in Phil's lap and together they stared up at the stars once more.

* * *

x

x

x

x

* * *

_**Please let me know in the reviews or something how often you want me to update and stuff yey~**_


	5. Chapter 4

The sun beat mercilessly down on their backs like the steady pound of heavy feet. They'd been walking for three days and the small bundle of supplies they'd taken from the waterfall had been exhausted. Thick foliage had faded to a sparse scattering of worn and withered trees, bent like old men against the wind with scarcely enough leaves to stay alive. Needless to say they were bare of fruit or anything remotely edible. The ground was hard and dry. They'd seen not a sign of life since they'd left the riverside following the sun and already their throats were parched; their eyes sore and itchy with dehydration.

"This was stupid," Dan said. They'd been walking in grim silence for three hours and Phil started at the sound.

"I know. Why did we not think about water?"

"I guess we're just a bit thick. We've learnt the hard way anyway. Nothing survives without water, us included. Do you think we should head back and find the river again to follow it?"

"But what if we can't find it? I doubt we've been walking in a perfectly straight line – we could be looking for days and days."

"Well what do you suggest then?"

"We'd just get dehydrated and even more angry trying to find it again."

"Okay fine can you please stop digging at my ideas and suggest something betterthanks."

"Keep going. There's got to be more rivers because otherwise nothing would grow, but there are a few trees. That means there's water underground at least. We need to find lower ground. There might be a lake or something."

"Okay genius, how the fuck do we find lower ground? We haven't got a clue where we are. Maybe we should stick our heads in the soil and ask a worm."

"You do that if you want. I could use a laugh. Please, Dan, stop being craggy. I know you're hungry but so am I and it's just gonna make both of us angrier and angrier." Phil sighed, running his fingers through his mop of black hair. It was growing long already – falling in front of his eyes and prickling at the back of his neck.

"It's not something I can control Phil. Stop playing with your hair, it's so fucking irritating."

"You do it too." Phil snapped. "Is hair really the most important issue here? If you're hungry then fucking eat the last apple then. Go on! If it'll shut you up…"

Dan was silent for a moment. Phil swearing had broken through the angry red haze and now he felt guilt as well as hunger.

"I'm not eating the last apple. Sorry, let's just keep going okay."

Phil didn't respond, staring straight ahead, his mouth in a fixed line.

* * *

x

* * *

Another day passed and they spent the evening licking dew drops off leaves in silence. They had snapped so much at each other over the past twenty-four hours that neither was talking to the other, a tense distance between them.

Dan ripped a branch off a tree in frustration before throwing himself down on the ground with his back to Phil. In all honesty Phil was close to doing the same, but he was glad he hadn't been the first to crack. The tiny droplets of water weren't nearly enough to satisfy his thirst and, with another sigh, he settled himself a few feet away from Dan on the grass.

"Goodnight," he said quietly.

Dan grunted in response.

* * *

x

* * *

A third day passed in much the same way, only this time they stopped talking long before sunset and slept at opposite ends of the small glade they settled in. Phil's stomach rumbled unhappily and he sighed into the grass that tickled his nose. He missed his warm, clean bed. He missed the taste of cookies and bread and pasta and all the things that they couldn't have out here. He missed the sweet tang of fruit juice slipping down his throat and the warm glow of hot chocolate. He missed the soft, moisturized and squeaky clean feeling from the disinfection stations. He was covered in dirt and grime from sleeping on the floor and his back ached until he longed for the sweet relief of his control pack. He was bruised and cut and battered, his body not used to having to fight back against the elements and repair itself, and he wondered now if this had been a good idea after all.

It was too late though. They'd been out here so long, all manner of bugs and bacteria would have got inside them and there was no way they'd be let back into a sterile zone now. He hugged his knees unhappily to his chest and tried to fall asleep on the hard, cold and slightly damp ground.

* * *

x

* * *

The fourth day dawned hot and bright. The sun's glare bore into Phil's eyes as he rubbed them blearily, sitting up and trying to stretch the crick out of his neck. He was starting to think they should have turned back after all. Ahead the trees were thinning all the more, the ground paler and drier than any they'd come across. Parched, dead twigs stood brittle in the cracked ground and everywhere seemed to be covered in a layer of dust that choked and smothered. Phil coughed, pulling himself to his feet and trying to beat the grey cloud out of his clothes.

"Oh so you decided to get up off your fat arse then."

Dan's voice from behind him made him jump.

"For fuck's sake, Dan. At least try to start the day on a good note," he muttered.

"The day started three hours ago. You've just been sleeping through it like a peaceful little baby while I had to sit here and listen to your snores."

"You could have just woken me up," Phil grumbled as he turned away, squinting into the sun. "Come on then. You're so eager to set off, so let's go."

"Great. Exercising without breakfast Phil, the nutritionists would go mental. Me, I had a great breakfast. Dust with a side of more fucking dust."

"Sounds great. Now shut up, I'm trying to walk," Phil snarled.

"Oh please, do forgive me. Wouldn't want to interrupt your thoughts. Lord knows how deep and meaningful your philosophies are."

Phil strode angrily away from Dan's side, his taunts following him through the dense, dry air.

It was like a desert. That's what it reminded him of. The dust was almost sand-like: smooth and grating at the same time. Pale, fine, shifting, silent. A gust of wind sent it swirling into Phil's eyes and he swore, scratching painfully and trying to dig the particles out with his fingers. He blinked furiously, but try as he might he couldn't muster enough moisture to dislodge the burning grains.

Even with his eyes screwed up he could still see the sun: burning and unyielding, a huge orange orb in the sky. His lips seemed to have swollen along with his tongue, making it even harder to swallow what little sticky saliva lumped in his throat. A hollow ringing echoed in his ears and his head throbbed. His nose was full of dust and baked earth and the stink of his own sweat.

When they had left the forest the sky had been clear blue glass. Now, as they staggered a few feet away from each other in fuming silence, the blue glass was marred by flecks of swirling ash. Carrion crows. Waiting for their next meal.

* * *

x

* * *

They walked until the sun was low in the horizon, unceasing in their steady trudge. Dan was ahead now and Phil walked in his footsteps until Dan stumbled, barely catching himself, his arms weak and his legs like jelly, and suddenly Phil wanted to cry. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

"No I'm not fucking okay!" Dan screamed, his voice strained. "This is all your fault! I'm going back. I'm going back to the fucking river and I'll have threesomes till the end of my days while you're out here starving to death because you're a fucking idiot. Why didn't you think of this? Why-"

The words caught in the back of his throat and he covered his face with his arms, dragging his fingers through his matted hair. "I'm not staying here to die. I can't do it, Phil," he whispered, and with that he turned on the spot and started to run, as if desperate to escape before he broke down and changed his mind.

Phil squinted into the distance. Everything looked the same. The crumbling rock, the dusty grey sand and the dead trees. As he stared helplessy at Dan's retreating figure something clenched violently in his stomach and he fell to the ground and retched.


	6. Chapter 5

It might all have ended there, with Dan wandering for days searching hopelessly for a familiar sight. Phil staggering alone into the sun. Til they both turned back and started to run; wanting only to fall down in each other's arms and die. But it didn't. Because at that moment Phil saw something new on the horizon. A figure, tall and haggard, limping towards Dan out of the heat haze.

"Dan!" Phil tried to shout, but his voice came out hoarse and feeble. "Dan!" he croaked again and broke into a staggering sprint.

Exhaustion and dehydration made Phil slow and his legs protested as he tried to drag them forwards. The dull burning in his throat turned white hot and his breaths came out in rasps as he struggled to suck air into his lungs. It felt like he was breathing in splinters of rock that shredded his throat on the way down. He was cramping all down his left leg and his head was spinning; the scene in front of him blurred and playing out in slow motion. It was like a dream: the faster he ran, the further away everything seemed.

The tall man got there first.

Dan turned in surprise – jumping backwards. He took another step, listening warily to the man's speech, and finally Phil was at his side, heaving and panting as he swayed on the spot. Slowly, the image swam into focus.

The man was bearded and ragged with wispy, grey hair that tangled down to his waist. His eyes were sunken into sallow skin and his limbs long and skeletal. Phil watched in fascinated horror as he moved, each bone clearly visible under the grey skin, the tendons tightening and releasing. The blood pounding in his ears finally began to ease and Phil could hear again.

"So there's two of you eh. Twice as difficult. Twice as many mouths. Twenty fingers and twenty toes. You'll eat the toes first. Everyone always does. But whose toes, eh? Whose toes are going first? Pink and plump and juicy like little sausages. Eh. Two of you. Friends? Lovers? Makes no difference. You'll die just the same as anyone else. Bones. Boys' bones. For the vultures don't leave much. Eh, it's hot out here. It's the summer you see. No rain for months down here. It's like a desert of ash. Hot hot hot like a sauna. Hot like spices and peppers and pepperoni and mascarpone." His voice was high and whiny and it droned in the hot air like a mosquito.

Dan turned, perplexed, to Phil. Their hostility was momentarily forgotten.

"That's what they all say. True love. Found the one. One? How can there be one. There's billions. How can there be one for everyone when there's so many. How do you know your One didn't die in a car crash. They might live in bleedin' Africa and you ain't never gonna find em. If there's only one, then there's not nearly enough to go around. What if your One is Spanish? Answer me that boys. How's you supposed to know she's the one when she can't speak a word of bloody English."

In anyone else's mouth, these would have been in questions, but this old man didn't seem to expect answers. There was no inflection in his voice, no upwards tilt to invite a response, and Dan stood speechless.

"I tell you. It's codswallop that's what it is. There's no such thing. If you think otherwise yer barking. Barking mad. Barking up the wrong tree, that's what you're doing. True love. Stuff and nonsense. There's only death. That's the only thing that matters. You ain't never gonna find the one because you're gonna die before you've even begun to search this bloody planet. Them people that live in the cage, they got the right idea. Don't even bother. That's what I say. It's useless. Waste of time. You're going to die alone anyhow. Alone and afraid and in pain. The sooner you learn to accept that the better. I'm Edgar."

Dan started. "Oh, right, yeah. Um, I'm Dan. And this is Phil."

"Dan and Phil. Nasty, common names. Old fashioned and boring. You sound like your donors picked you right out of the history books. Named after a thousand nobodies. Tell me, can you think of anyone famous called Daniel? Sure you can, you can list hundreds. That's the point. No one stands out. Not when you're called Daniel. But can you think of anyone famous called Edgar? There's only one that jumps to mind boys. Only one. If you're out with originality then at least hold on to something. Hold on to something special. Phil's worse. Philip. What kind of god awful name is Philip anyway. Sounds like a disease. That's the one good thing I suppose. You won't die of disease out here. Lord no. Running about all dramatic and righteous like that, well. I'll warrant you'll be dead within the next twenty-four hours. Reckon I'll be sticking around. Never been much of a fan of human flesh myself, but them vultures are right tasty. Just like chicken."

Dan was at a loss and Phil just gestured helplessly to the sky. "Um… they're not vultures. They're just crows."

"Well don't you forget to tell them that when they're pecking yer eyeballs out by the stalks. Put 'em in their place. Bloody idiot."

Dan rolled his eyes at Phil. "I don't think that's really what matters here. You say we're going to die. Is there anything you can do to help us?"

Edgar cackled, clutching his chest and wheezing. "I haven't eaten in days, boys. I can't wait. Do us all a favour and decapitate yourselves now to save time. No wait – start drinking your own piss. That'll be a laugh. Two pretty boys like this setting off into the wilderness in bloody skinny jeans and brand shirts and naught much else like the pair of stupid, ignorant little toffs you are. You boys know nothing. But you're about to learn it all. Shame you'll be dead. Maybe ponder taking supplies with you when you next try and cross a desert in mid-summer while the crows are enjoying your sweet, wet blood."

Dan and Phil were speechless. Above their heads a black crow circled, cawing mournfully.

"Even the birds know," Edgar grinned gleefully. "I was wrong. That one thinks you'll be dead by nightfall. He's telling his pals. The birds always know, boys. We'll all be feasting tonight. But hey, maybe if you hold hands nice and tightly you'll scare off the grim reaper with the power of love."

He was laughing manically now, wheezing out the words and doubled over with delight. As they watched in disbelief he began to shuffle away, still coughing, towards the feeble shade of a scrawny sycamore tree.

* * *

x

* * *

Dan turned to Phil. "Do you think he's right? Is there no hope?"

"Hope? There is always hope if one only remembers to turn on the – no, wait, that's happiness. Hang on, I got this."

"You're mixing up Harry Potter with Lord of the fucking Rings." Dan laughed despite himself. "Is now really the time? We're about to die. Maybe we should be using this time to find religion. God bless."

"I don't think we'll die. He hasn't, and he looks like he's been here a long time. He scares me, Dan. How did he end up like that? He looks like a corpse. And he way he speaks – what's wrong with him? Is that how we'll end up without our control packs? Is that what happens in the end? He's not human. He can't be. But somehow he's still alive so there must be water near. Look at the crows - they're heading north. Why would they leave if they think dinner's almost ready? They won't be able to go far if they wanna get back here by nightfall."

Dan considered for a moment. "Follow the crows?"

"Follow the crows. What have we got to lose?"

"Oh, I don't know, only our lives."

"Nothing important then. Let's go."

Dan held out a hand. "To fight off the grim reaper."

Behind them, the old man started to laugh once more.

* * *

x

* * *

Hand in hand they followed the crows over crumbling rock and hard, cracked ground for six long hours. Heat cramps littered Phil's body and Dan was slipping into exhaustion, mumbling snatches of confused phrases and stumbling as he walked. His eyes were glazed and his skin was slick with a sheen of sweat. Each bead of moisture that dripped down his cheek was agony to Phil. He realised now what they should have done – sat out the long days in the shade, conserving water and exerting as little energy as possible so as to set off in the cool of the night. They'd been stupid, again.

He mopped his brow, tugging gently at Dan's arm to usher him along. He had expected Edgar to follow them but the old man was nowhere to be seen. They had lost sight of the crows; the sky a clear, vibrant and unbroken blue that seemed to mock them in its beauty. Now and then, a wisp of cloud would fade into existence and they would urge it on towards the sun but then it would phase out, fading into the shimmering heat haze that spanned the horizon.

There were trees up ahead. The hazy glow had obscured them from Phil's straining eyes but now they seemed solid, a small copse or perhaps a larger gathering. They were less brown and less dead than the shrubbery they'd passed over the week, and they filled Phil with hope. He pulled Dan onwards with new energy, dreaming of the cool oasis they promised and the waterfall they'd left behind them in favour of a scorching desert.

Maybe he was dreaming but it seemed to Phil that the closer they drew the more trees materialized behind the first scattering and, by his left foot, a single strand of grass had sprung up between a crack in the dark ground.

"Dan!" Phil said suddenly.

"Mmmhh?" Dan mumbled.

"Mud."

"Great."

"No Dan. Mud."

"Huh? Mud? Where?" Dan's eyes snapped into focus.

"Well, not like proper mud. But look – the soil's soft there, by that bush. I think it's damp Dan. Dan, I think we're going to make it."

They stumbled forwards, clinging to each other for support and dragging in great, rasping breaths of warm air. The first tree they came to was dead and brown but the next had shoots of green struggling on the lower branches and the one after that had a single blossom of pure white nestled between soft, green leaves. The trees up ahead were thicker, lush and green, forming a stark contrast with the barren desert. They still had a way to go but it seemed the spark of hope had brought with it a spark of life and they hurried onwards.

* * *

x

* * *

The river had snuck up on them. They'd been fighting through the thick foliage and stumbling over tangled roots, so caught up in the effort and their heavy breathing that they hadn't heard the tumbling of water over rocks until they were almost at the edge of the high bank.

The surface of the water was a long way down. In the winter it probably rose to the top of its banks but now it was a thin trickle at the bottom of a treacherous gorge. Dan fell helplessly to the ground, struggling for breath.

"Get up," Phil said harshly. "There's no way we're giving up now. Look – the land slopes downwards. I bet we're heading into a valley, that's why there's water all of a sudden. Come on – we'll make it yet. At the very least there has to be some feeder streams somewhere. We'll be sensible this time and just follow the river downwards. Come on, Dan, get up."

The sound of the river was tantalizing to the brink of insanity, but they pushed onwards.

"Do it for Edgar," Phil muttered. "I really don't fancy him picking at our dead bodies, so let's prove his bitter old soul wrong, okay?"

Dan didn't say anything. His eyes had regained that glazed look and each foot seemed to be placed only after Phil dragged it there. Phil bit his lip.

* * *

x

* * *

The soft sound of a stream slipping over smooth stones. A thud of pounding feet. A splash, and then another.

* * *

x

* * *

The stream was only a few feet deep but Phil lay flat on his stomach – trying to immerse every inch of himself in the dancing water. He'd had to coax Dan into drinking; for a while he'd just sat motionless where Phil had pushed him, staring in disbelief at the water, but now he was taking great gulps and Phil splashed to his side, pulling his head out of the brook.

"Stop, stop. You'll make yourself sick. Sips. Take a sip, wait a bit, then take another okay? And get out if you're getting cold." He'd just noticed Dan's shivering shoulders. The cool shade of the hanging trees felt like a whole new realm of paradise, but Phil was cautious of Dan's delicate state.

As his thirst subsided Phil turned instead to his aching stomach, casting his eyes around for a promising direction to search in. He was pouring water gently over Dan's shoulders and neck, flinching against the burning skin, while Dan took obedient sips of water.

"How do you feel?" Phil murmured.

"Head hurts," said Dan hoarsely. "It's like a pounding. Better now though. Don't feel so dizzy either. I thought I was going to die, Phil. I can't believe I didn't fall down."

Phil rubbed water soothingly into Dan's dust coated hair. "How about you lie down and have a good wash? It'll help cool you down and at least you won't have far to fall if you do pass out. Lie on your back though please. I don't want you drowning."

Gently, he lowered Dan's feeble body into the water. "It feels like I'm baptising you," Phil muttered.

Dan laughed weakly and Phil grinned.

"What if I'm sick though? I don't feel too great. Lying on my back I could choke," Dan murmured. "What do you suggest for that then, Mr. biologist?"

"Do you really think you might throw up?" Phil asked anxiously.

"Yeah," Dan replied.

"Okay. I'll stay here. We can recover properly then go look for food together."

"Thanks, Phil."

"Hey, Dan."

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too. Sorry about – you know. I didn't mean it. I was just so scared."

"It's okay. Me too."


	7. Chapter 6

The blackberries hung heavy on the bramble, glistening with droplets of moisture, each fruit jewelled like a cluster of deep purple beads. Phil reached out a hand and the berry fell almost gratefully off its stalk to rest shining and smooth in his palm. He rolled it over and over with his thumb, revelling in the soft, plump flesh and then quickly – almost guiltily – he popped it into his mouth. Soon enough both he and Dan had purple tongues and stained red skin, heedless of the thorns that pricked and scratched as they tore the berries from the branches. They'd spent a full day following the stream down into the valley, recovering their strength and eating what morsels of fruit and roots they could find. All the time, the plants and trees on either side became more luxuriant. Dense, curling ferns twisted their way between trees with glossy green spear-shaped leaves that dripped moisture from their spiny tips. On the ground, there grew big purple-petalled flowers that held water almost like bowls, and in and out darted dragonflies with bright red shimmering bodies. They followed a broad, leaf strewn path under canopies that spread like umbrellas in the strange mist that seemed to cloak the valley.

The valley floor was level now. Tiny birds flashed by, sudden zigzags of colour against the sky. The heavy air throbbed with the hum of bees and the buzz of mosquitoes. It was warm – almost stiflingly so – and humid. Without thinking, Dan pulled off his shirt and beside him he heard Phil gasp.

"What?" he smirked.

"You look a bit, um… hot and sweaty there." Phil blushed through his smile.

"It is kinda sticky, isn't it? But the sun can't fry us here so it's much better without a shirt." Dan winked.

Phil's cheeks reddened further. "I agree. Definitely better. Let me know if you want to take your jeans off too."

Dan laughed as he wrapped his arms around Phil's broad shoulders, pressing his damp skin against Phil's shirt. "Thank you," he murmured into Phil's hair. "You quite literally saved my life."

"You certainly recovered quickly." Phil smirked.

"I had the best doctor in town."

"Come on." Phil laughed, shaking his head as he ducked out of Dan's embrace. "Let's get more food and find somewhere to camp for the night."

"Uuuurgh," Dan sighed dramatically. "Why do you have to be so sensible all the time?"

"Someone has to." Phil rolled his eyes as he set off once more down the path.

All they could see was lush green growth and the occasional sweep of colour. The forest was old. This wasn't one of the copses that had sprung up where humanity had abandoned the land – it was deep rooted and rich with life. The difference from the sleek white walls Phil had called home for twenty-three years was staggering.

"There's so much food," Dan said in wonder as he plucked an apple from a tree. "I didn't realise it grew wild like this."

"I don't think it used to." Phil frowned. "Maybe there used to be an orchard nearby. That means a farm, which means vegetables. We need to look in the ground."

"A proper search," Dan agreed. "We can't live off fruit for the rest of our lives. My stomach already feels a bit iffy."

"We should probably split up then if we want to search this valley before we make camp. You go left and I'll meet you back here in like five minutes, okay?"

Phil walked slowly down the right-hand fork, scouring the ground and paying little attention to the tall trees or the flies that danced lazily around his head. He was thinking about Dan, and he was scared. They had run off thinking that they would adventure and live life to the full, natural happiness and then die. They hadn't really put much thought into the not dying long enough to do the adventuring bit. Phil wondered if they were going to travel forever, going for days and days without food. Or were they going to settle in a valley not dissimilar to this one maybe. Settle for the fact that this was all they'd ever see of life, but at least they'd have security and comfort.

The path Phil was following emerged into a small clearing, and as he scanned the ground, his eyebrows creased. The carpet of leaves had been swept back. Some of the branches had clean cut edges and the ground was ridged. He crouched down to examine the dark soil: not exactly ridges – more like long, smooth humps. There were three of them – one beside another – in a row. Beyond the mounds was a pile of stones, all of roughly equal size and round shape as if they'd been collected and stacked. Phil shivered.

There was someone here – a human – and they had built a graveyard.

He hurried back along the path to find Dan, a sick feeling in his stomach. He treaded quietly with none of the gay abandon of earlier. The sight of Dan crouched down next to a pile of freshly dug carrots pushed a wave of relief through his chest and he jogged quietly to his side.

"There's people here," he murmured. "I found a graveyard."

Dan paled. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Please tell me you didn't get too close – the bacteria can live for hundreds of years."

"I know. I had a good look, but I didn't touch anything. I guess we'll just have to hope, huh?"

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil's waist, burying his face into his stomach. "Let's keep going. I got all the carrots here – there were potatoes too, but I couldn't find any that looked edible."

Sobered and wary, Dan and Phil set off once more through the dense trees.

The umbrella-leaved trees grew closer to the track as they went on, and by the stream side, big, fleshy green plants formed an ever denser wall so that soon they lost sight of the stream they were following. Big wet leaves slapped their faces, soaking their clothes and cooling the sweat that prickled their skin. The track had disappeared, overgrown by the almost jungle like greenery that tangled and crawled in front of them.

Then through the ceaseless gurgle of running water came an entirely new sound – the sound of a man singing in a high, clear tenor. Dan and Phil listened in astonishment to the joyful belting. They hurried on through the foliage and suddenly the curtain of leaves cleared – exposing a clear, blue pool where the stream had hit a sandy shallow. The man looked up in surprise with watery blue eyes.

He lay floating on his back, half-immersed in the water, his vast stomach rising up from the ring of green slime in a perfect dome. His cheeks and chins seemed to run on without interruption into his chest, in rolls of flesh that spilled down his belly all the way to pink, plump toes. He had stopped singing now, staring at them with an astonishment that mirrored their own. Slowly, after blinking several times, he raised a pudgy hand out of the water in a wave of greeting.

"Well hello there," he said, his voice rich and gravelly.

Neither Dan nor Phil had ever seen such a fat man. In New London, everyone ate the same thing: a careful diet of calories and nutrients tailored specifically to each person and put in front of them by a computer that flavoured each dish to fit their mood.

"Hi," Phil said after a moment.

With much floundering and grunting the man heaved his great body out of the water. There he stood, saggy and dripping, naked but for a length of cloth wound between his legs like and immense and baggy baby's nappy.

"Well now this is a surprise. Visitors! I must confess I have no measure of how long I've been alone now, so you are a welcome sight indeed. And what brings you to my humble abode?"

"We're travelling, I guess," Phil struggled. "We left New London to see the world and be together, at least for as long as we've got."

The great man harrumphed and patted his belly by means of drying himself.

"Well now isn't that romantic. That's what we did, my friends and I. They talked for years about the pain and sorrow of being the last one left, but I must say, it's not so bad. Look at my life! All the food and warmth and beauty I could ever want. Isn't this a pretty sight, eh boys? Anyway, if you've come all the way from a bleeding city with nought but your clothes, you must be ravenous. Come! Let me show you my home!"

With that, he set off at a stately waddle.

"The name's Garth. And who are you lads?"

Dan and Phil followed warily.

"I'm Phil and this is my boyfriend, Dan."

Phil smiled suddenly. It was the first time he'd said the word out loud and he could see Dan grinning at his side, soft dimples puckering.

"Thank you so much. To tell you the truth we didn't really expect to meet anyone outside of the cities. The way they talk about the outside… they make it sound like you die as soon as you step out the gates." Dan said.

"Ahh stuff and nonsense. We got by just fine for a long and prosperous lifetime. It's those city dwellers that sit in their little white bubbles, breathing in chlorine all day. See that's the difference. They want to live forever – they're terrified of death. Myself, I intend to greet it with open arms. I've had a good life full of good food and fine people. To them the knowledge that my wife died at fifty-six would send ice through their veins. While she may not have been healthy, she was happy. Really, truly happy – not like those bloody pills they're popping day in day out. Anyhow she died of a heart attack, poor soul, nothing to do with any deadly bacteria or savage beasties. I tell you boys, this is the way to live. Good and proper and as nature intended - why else would she have rewarded me with such a fine bounty? Why there's food here to feed an army and hot springs to bathe several."

The overgrown path led them down into a broad and beautiful glade. At the furthest edge of the clearing stood a wooden structure lashed together with care with a series of hanging canopies that made a roof over the bamboo walls.

"Thank God for climate change, eh?" Garth said as he ducked inside a low doorway, veiled by hanging vines. "Would have frozen to death by now without it. And bananas – lord, what I would do without bananas?"

Dan snorted suddenly. "I know the feeling."

He winked at Phil, who took a second of confusion for the penny to drop and then spluttered, blushing crimson and hiding his face in his hands.

Within a minute, Garth had returned with brimming bowls of a cloudy liquid. "You must be thirsty. Here! I tell you what, I'll cook you up a feast of welcome. It's been a long time since I've had company to share the wonders of my little paradise with. All alone with nothing to do for so long I've had time to develop my passions in life – cooking, and eating. I like to think I've become a master of both."

And food there was plenty. Garth had busied himself around a cooking stove while Dan and Phil explored the valley. As they returned, he ushered Dan over with glee in his eyes.

"Taste this."

Dan licked the spoon.

"It's delicious."

"Of course it is. And it's not even stewed yet. Once the pots have sat in the hot water overnight the tastes will all soak into each other, making new tastes! Even now you see the nutty tang of the palm hearts mellows with the ginger alongside it? I think of it as voices in song. Catch the right notes and they make a chord, a new note altogether. Now you don't want to do it like that!"

Garth had spotted Phil attacking a coconut with a stick.

"You find the two dimples – here you see – and you prick them through, like this, and you drink the milk." He demonstrated, holding the fruit up above his fleshy mouth and catching the spurt of milk. Then he lay the coconut down on the flat ground.

"Then you hit it with a rock."

With a quick, neat blow he split the shell in two.

Phil watched in admiration and thanked him, before gnawing eagerly at the flesh.

Dan watched him fondly, casting his eyes to the beauty that surrounded them as he breathed in the rich aroma coming from the stew pot. It was perfect – a paradise even. But something felt wrong. Maybe it was the damp, close air or maybe it was the mist that rose from the hot springs, veiling the sky and making him feel trapped somehow. The forest was dense, even the very air was dense and squashy somehow. Warm and wet and sticky and like a prison. They had left a prison, and he had no desire to enter another one. He made up his mind right then that they wouldn't stay here – at least, not indefinitely. He had to find clear skies and open plains. But before he did that he wanted just a little bit more of that stew.


	8. Chapter 7

"Her name was Sue. It was short for Suleana, but she hated that name. She called herself Suzie, like her great-grandmother. Seeing you boys together reminds me of her. Of us. Oh the fun we had. You boys are nothing like her of course, lanky skeletons the pair of you. In serious need of a good feeding. Why, I don't doubt we could have fitted both of you inside of her and still have had room for seconds. She was a mighty woman, my Sue. We were perfect for each other. I liked to cook and to sing, and she liked to eat and to listen. She could talk the hind legs off a donkey, that girl. The chats we had. Sleeping in the shade of those palms over there – she had a hammock strung up and she'd lie there all day telling me all these wonderful things about the world while I made her good things to eat and washed her hair. She had beautiful blonde hair. Natural and golden. Like the sunset. Like the dusting of gold on the tops of the clouds when the sun is just beginning to sink. She was my sunshine."

Garth wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, Dan and Phil sitting in respectful silence.

"I sometimes wonder if I killed her," he said quietly. "I cared for her, you see. After we found this place there were just too many good things. I kept on cooking and we kept on eating till she could hardly move from her hammock anymore. I bathed her and fed her and told her she was beautiful every day. But I suppose muscles grow lazy too if you don't ever use them, and one day her heart just forgot to beat."

The running stream joined the call of songbirds in mellifluous harmony. A caterpillar made its way slowly over Dan's foot.

"I carried her in the hammock. It took me all day to move her to where she's buried. It sure licked my heart into shape, let me tell you. She's all wrapped up in it. I couldn't bear to look at her when I shovelled soil all over her pretty hair – I tell you that's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It's so final. Once they're down there, you know for sure that they're not going to come poking their head round the door with a cheeky wave. You're not going to just wake up next to them again one day and it will all be okay again."

He sniffed, wiping his nose on a sleeve.

"Now you've let me ramble on and the soup's gone cold! Eat up."

They ate hungrily, silent bar the scraping of their spoons against the bottom of the bowl. As the last drops of his soup were scooped up, Phil spoke tentatively. "Are you lonely?"

Garth paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "I was. At first I was terribly lonely. Never known anything like it. But I think I'm doing okay now. I've got my calling birds for company and my cooking to make the days go by. She would have wanted me to keep going. To make the most of paradise because we found it far, far too late. Alone doesn't have to be lonely because I know she's still here – this whole place was made for us. I see her eyes in the stream and her hair in the clouds. Her kiss is in the Sueberries. They were her favourite. Sweet, but not overpowering. Light and delicate and bursting with flavour. That's what her lips tasted like because she ate so many. So you see, I don't ever need to be lonely when her kiss is hanging plump on a bush ripe for the tasting. You boys are young. I know to you love seems so passionate and downright angstful. How can one possibly go on without the other? Oh lord, save us from this tragedy." He smiled. "I know why you asked though. You want to leave. This isn't your paradise. It's a paradise of course – you'd have to be a fool not to see that. But it's my paradise. The heaven of an old, fat, and lonely man. Yours is out there somewhere, and you should find it. You've still got so much life left in you. Don't waste it. And don't worry about me, I'm not lonely. When my time comes I won't weep for someone to bury me next to my dearest because she's part of the soil now, and soon part of the trees and then the bugs and then the birds and the squirrels and no matter where I heave my last breath that's how I'll end up too. I am not afraid."

He surveyed them with a quiet twinkle in his eye. "You are afraid. You try not to show it, your love is powerful and worth dying for I'm sure, but that doesn't mean you want to. You want to go on living, and by Jove, you shall. Leave at first light, that's my advice. The world is your oyster, my boys, and life is yours for the taking. It's just taken a while for you to start living it, that's all."

x

Dan lay awake, listening to the rustle of the wind in the canopy above his head. Garth's speech had given him a lot to ponder, and sleep was evading him. Down where the rocks were warm and hot springs gushed forth it was cool, but not unpleasantly so. Refreshing after the sticky humidity of the day. Beside him, Phil stirred.

"You still awake?" he murmured.

"Yeah," Dan breathed. "Thinking."

"Me too."

"What you thinking about?"

"Thinking about what he said. About finding our paradise. I'm trying to picture it, but it won't stick in my head. It keeps changing."

"Same." Dan sighed. "That's a good thing though. At least our paradises are probably the same place."

"Yeah."

There was silence for a moment, then Phil spoke again.

"I'm thinking about what will happen in the end too, though I don't want to. I don't want to die, but I don't want to be the last one left either."

"I know. He's right, we're scared. We chose this because it was better than what we had, that's all. I think though he's right about the living part. We need to not think about the end so that we can live more, because the more we live the more we'll be able to come to terms with the end."

"Yeah. That makes sense. Let's do that, just try not to think about it. Focus on living. Living forever."

"You're sounding like the city people now." Dan chuckled, but only light-heartedly because he could hear Phil slipping slowly into slumber with each gentle breath. "Goodnight," he whispered.

Phil murmured his response, before his head fell with a soft thud onto Dan's stomach. Dan winced, shifting the mop of dark, warm hair gently to one side so that he could breathe. His fingers tangled through the dark strands. Something in the water had made their skin soft and their hair shine, and Phil's was long and luscious in Dan's hands. It hung almost to his shoulders now, with a soft wave, the ebony clearly lightening at the roots. Dan wondered how Garth kept himself so clean-shaven. He had cropped dark hair and smooth cheeks while Phil's were thick with a layer of bristle that coursed raggedly across Dan's face when they kissed. Dan liked the bristle. He wasn't so keen on the itchy, sore rash it left though, and his own curly locks were really starting to get to him. Curly was bad enough, but when the curls hung to his shoulders and over his eyes he had started seriously considering hacking it off with a stone. He made a mental note to ask Garth in the morning. For now though, the stars twinkled down through the canopy in the silent night, the forest seemingly moving in time with the steady rise and fall of Phil's chest. Dan kissed his cheek, then lay back on the bed of green moss. The world seemed to have accepted them openly into its arms and Dan was content.

x

They left the valley considerably more laden with supplies than when they'd left the city. Apparently, Garth and his three friends had thought through their trip a little more meticulously and packed essentials such as scissors, cutlery, and razors so now, with three gone, he had plenty to spare. Dan walked with a spring in his step – his head thoroughly shorn – and stroked his fingers lovingly over Phil's smooth, pink cheeks.

"I'm not saying don't grow it, I like it. It's manly. Just, not all the time."

"You know I don't like it, I'm just normally too lazy to shave. Anyway. We have a razor now – if you want it shaved you can just do it while I'm sleeping or something. You're lucky, you're all smooth like a little girl." Phil poked Dan playfully in the ribs.

"Oi." Dan grinned. "We can't both be cavemen. Your roots are coming through, by the way."

"Shut up. Oh god, I'm going to die ginger."

Dan laughed. "So superficial, Phil. Don't worry, you can always rub dirt on it. Once you're buried it'll be all brown with soil anyway."

Phil winced. "Not thinking about that, remember? Anyway, dirt would make it go brown and I don't want brown either. I want black. Like your heart."

"Ouch." Dan sniggered. "That was cutting. Surely my heart is warmed by my love for you?"

"Oh shut up, you corny idiot. You are the dark where I am the light. We're like the little angel and devil on someone's shoulders."

"You're hardly all precious and innocent, Phil." Dan snorted. "Your mind is way darker than mine. You think up some weird shit sometimes. You're just generally pretty weird actually - after all it was you who decided you wanted to ditch the control packs altogether. I was content for sex and lust but no - you wanted full blown depression."

"Except we didn't get depressed, did we?"

"No. I probably would have if I'd been on my own. Or to be honest, if it wasn't for that day on the train tracks, you remember? It was the day before we were going to go back on the drugs. We'd planned to watch really old sad movies to see if we could cry, but we got kicked out of the screening room so you took me down the tracks. And then you kissed me. And then three short hours later, we decided we never wanted to be fully happy again."

"That's not true," Phil argued. "Yeah the drugs made us all happy and pleasant, but this is a better kind of happy. Here and now. You and me. Okay, we're miserable a lot of the time too. Especially when we're hungry. But the happy times are so much better. And like, there's so many different types of happiness and they're all so special and exciting and never quite the same each time you feel them. I think that's better. Stability's nice, you know, the constant. Never having to worry. Bobbing along, high on life. But it's dull. It doesn't feel real. It doesn't send shivers through your blood or make you feel giddy and your head spin. And then when we're like, you know…"

"Fucking."

"Yeah. That. I wouldn't give that up for the world."

"Agreed. It's a good thing we can't get pregnant though. I don't fancy bringing a child up out here. Because, you know, they'd get sick. And that's not fair – like, this was a choice for us. We know we don't have long left now. But they wouldn't have a choice – they'd be doomed from birth."

"Are you mourning the loss of your potential paternity here, Dan Howell? We can always get a puppy." Phil grinned.

"For the last time, Philip Lester, we are not getting a puppy. Or a hamster. Or any kind of helpless animal that would be dependant on us. Do wild hamsters even exist?"

"Yes! They live in deserts. They're actually really good hunters."

Dan snorted. "Wow. I'm finding that hard to imagine."

"I know." Phil grinned. "I bet it would be really cute though. Tracking down and brutally murdering like a bug or whatever it is they eat."

"Maybe that's why the nursery one always bit me. It thought I was a bug."

"It's the six legs I reckon. Ow!"

Their laughter carried through the dense trees, startling birds that still slumbered in the early morning. Garth had set them off on a path with the promise of something amazing at the end of it.

It's a sight you'll want to see boys. You can trust me on this. Life's not worth living without it in your mind. Maybe it'll be your paradise, and maybe not. But if you do decide to move on, head south and follow rivers. No straying back into the baron lands again, you great pair of buffoons.

Garth had given Phil hope. He was not like Edgar. They had spoken to just three individuals since leaving the city, and each one had been alive and vibrant with personality. But Garth was proof – confirmation that it didn't have to end badly.

The sun filtered down through the leaves and dappled the bed of pale green lichens that carpeted the forest floor. It danced off Dan's skin with a warm, yellow glow that reflected the specks of gold in his eyes. Phil grabbed his arms suddenly – pulling him into a big pool of light and bringing their lips together.

"I want to tell you I love you every day," he mumbled into the kiss. "Because we never know which one might be our last."

"Right, little ray of sunshine you are," Dan said, but he was grinning. The sun was warm and gentle on his skin, and Phil's lips tasted like berries.

"I mean it," Phil insisted. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever met. Inside and out. You're not perfect, not even close, but you're perfect for me. Completely perfect. And I love you. Even when my eyeballs are being eaten by maggots and worms, I'll still love you."

"Well, alright, but I hope you won't mind if I don't kiss you while you're flesh is decaying in the soil, okay?" Dan smirked. "I love you too you great soppy idiot. Can I tell you something while we're being cute? I was close to giving up. I was going to stop the drugs all by myself, and I would have been so angry and sad and alone. Seeing the world for what it really was for the first time without you by my side to point out the rainbow in the sky and the way the pigeon's wings beat when it took flight. I'd have been one of those cases. The ones they tell you about in sociology. The ones that go mad and throw away their control packs and jump of a roof. You saved my life. Not just physically. Without you I would never have started living at all. I love you, Phil Lester. You make me a better person and you complete me."

"Okay that was soppier than mine." Phil giggled, but he was cut short as Dan pulled him into a kiss.

As they pulled away, Dan coughed suddenly. Phil's eyes shot wide open in surprise and Dan's mouth puckered into a soft 'o'. Neither said a word.

x

It was the smell in the air that first told them they were getting close. It was something they'd never smelt before: undeniably fresh with a bite of something new. Dan tried to place it. It struck a vague memory, and hint of something from a vegan au natural market. A tang. He breathed in deeply, squinting into the distance. Above him, a white bird cawed mournfully.

"The vegetation is different here too," Phil said suddenly. "Look at the grass. It's not like, grass grass. It's long and wispy. Look – there. There's a tuft of it by that tree. The yellowy stuff."

"I see it." Dan frowned. "Do you recognise the smell? It's almost like, the feel of the air rather than the smell. How it feels in your lungs."

"I know." Phil's eyes shone. "Garth said it would take most of a day so I guess we're nearly there. Let's hurry."

They walked together, hand in hand, bright-eyed, fresh-faced and well-fed. Pushing onwards to take on life with all they had left.


	9. Chapter 8

At first Dan wondered if they'd come to the edge of the earth and it was flat after all. Through the trees glinted an endless and shimmering blue. The dense foliage was beginning to thin and he couldn't see any end or beginning – it was like the sky fell all the way to the ground. He could feel Phil's grip tighten in his hand and together they broke into a sprint. Hearts racing, they smashed through the undergrowth and emerged blinking in the light, coming to an abrupt standstill.

Their feet had found a fine, white powder that stretched in a thin band from left to right but it wasn't this that stopped them dead – it was the water. A huge expanse of azure stretching into the horizon in a swelling, glistening sheen of colour.

The tang of the sea filled their lungs and lifted their spirits with cool, fresh energy. It was vast. It spanned into infinity – monstrous and impossibly deep yet impossibly beautiful, too. Hues of emerald and cerulean tinted with the reflection of the white clouds. Gentle waves breaking on the beach. Ripples and foam, great crested waves in the distance forming white horses that galloped seemingly mercilessly towards the shore but then broke on some invisible sandbank out to sea and dissolved silently back into the water. It was still and serene yet moving constantly, churning and slipping. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before.

Dan let out a low whistle.

Phil sat down abruptly on the fine sand and after a moment Dan joined him.

"So. This is a beach. And that is the sea," he huffed.

Phil just nodded.

"It's… big," Dan muttered.

By his side Phil rolled his eyes.

"It's blue."

Phil dragged his eyes away from the sea to raise an incredulous eyebrow at Dan.

"It's pretty."

"Pretty, big and blue, huh?" Phil sniggered.

"I wanna touch it."

"Calm down. We have forever, remember."

Dan smiled at Phil, and Phil smiled at Dan, and together they got slowly to their feet – kicking off their shoes and revelling in the soft, cool sand between their toes. Dan rolled up his jeans and Phil followed suit, walking hand in hand towards the ocean.

"Shit!" Dan hissed. "It's freezing!"

Phil giggled. "What did you expect? It's the English Channel. Notoriously unpleasant. This isn't one of Garth's hot springs you know."

"No. It's bigger and bluer and colder."

"I think it's beautiful. It's like a wall of glitter."

"It's the same blue as your eyes."

"No it's not. Stop being stupid, it's not even close. My eyes are like the sky when it's all grey and dull."

"No. Your eyes are like the sky reflecting off the ocean. You could go swimming in those eyes."

"Well, I'd really rather you didn't. How about we swim in the sea instead?"

"Okay." Dan giggled. "I didn't pack my swimming trunks."

"Me neither."

"It would be a shame to get our clothes all wet and salty after we've just washed them…"

"Very sensible."

"We should probably take them off then, if we're being sensible." Dan fought to keep his face serious, a glint in his eye, before heading back up the beach to where they'd left their shoes.

Phil sniggered as he followed, shrugging off his shirt as he went. Dan's bare shoulders were glowing golden in the drowsy afternoon sun and Phil's smile widened as he turned, the shadows cast across his face contouring and highlighting his already beautiful features. Phil reached out a hand to touch his cheek and Dan blushed, snaking his arms around Phil's waist. His skin was warm and soft. It seemed to mould around Dan's body as he moved to rest his head on Phil's broad shoulder. He pressed his own bare skin into Phil's, revelling in the heat and the heavy pressure of Phil's arms tight around his back. Dark hair was in his eyes and he breathed in deeply. Behind him, Phil was trailing his slender fingers over the dips and curves of Dan's back, sending delicious shivers down to his toes. Phil's fingers danced across his shoulder blades, swooping down to the curve of his waist and the thin ridge of his spine.

Phil smiled into Dan's hair. His skin was soft and tanned golden brown through long days walking in the sun. His shirt had created tan lines that Phil traced with his fingertips – dangerously close to Dan's neck – and he felt Dan tremble in his arms. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Phil pulled backwards to place a kiss against Dan's jaw. Dan's eyes were closed and he breathed out softly, lifting his chin involuntarily as Phil trailed a line of gentle kisses down to his neck. Dan shivered, his fingers entwined in Phil's hair, and Phil smiled. He lifted a hand to Dan's cheek, coaxing his face downwards so that Phil could kiss the soft pink crescents of his lips.

"Weren't we supposed to be swimming?" he murmured, his lips against Dan's, his voice low.

Dan sighed pitifully and Phil chuckled.

"It was your idea. Don't you want to swim in the big blue sea?"

"Yeah, I guess," Dan mumbled, his eyes fluttering open to gaze at Phil. His hands were wound tightly together behind Phil's back, stopping him from leaving as he stared reproachfully into Phil's eyes. "It's not enough."

"What?" Phil's eyebrows creased.

"Forever. It's not long enough."

Phil bit his lip, his eyes in Dan's.

"I've never had enough. I don't ever want to stop holding you, but I want to swim with you and I want to travel with you and I want to see the world with you. How is that fair? There's not enough time for staying still but I'm not done holding you."

Phil pressed a finger to Dan's lips.

"I know. Every minute you spend moaning about it is a minute wasted. Let's swim. We've got all night for cuddles."

Dan smiled. "Race you."

"You're on."

"3… 2…" Dan broke into a sprint with a grin plastered across his face.

Phil followed a second later, spluttering indignantly through heaved breaths. "You little cheat! I'm coming to get you!"

"You'll have to catch me first!" Dan yelled back gleefully. The air caught in his throat and he coughed, but Phil pretended not to notice.

They hit the water at full pelt, throwing a great spray of water up into the air and stumbling forwards with a splash.

"Shit!" Dan shrieked, leaping up to back out of the water, but Phil clattered into him – his arms wrapping round his shoulders and tumbling him forwards headfirst into the biting waves.

* * *

x

* * *

The light was starting to fade and Dan and Phil lay exhausted and dripping on the golden sand.

"That was a stupid idea. I can't breathe. I think I swallowed like half the sea." Dan panted.

Phil grinned, unable to find the breath to respond. He pulled a slimy green strand of seaweed out of Dan's hair with a giggle and watched Dan recoil in horror.

"What the hell is that?!"

"Seaweed. A grade biology student."

"You literally just made that up."

"I literally didn't."

"Shut up."

"Look. The seaweed is trying to tell you it loves you." Phil had bent the thin strip into a heart on the sand.

Dan smiled. "How romantic."

Phil wrinkled his nose. "I do my best."

Dan touched Phil's smile fondly. "I love the seaweed too. Even if it is kind of disgusting."

"It's not appearances that matter. I should know, I'm dating you." Phil poked out his tongue.

"Ouch. That was cruel, Phil," Dan sniggered.

"I'm allowed to say that because you're the most beautiful person I've ever met," Phil mumbled, shuffling up to Dan's side. "I need to insult you every now and then to make sure you don't get too high an opinion of yourself and leave me."

Dan raised an eyebrow. "And why would I do that? You're the most beautiful person in the whole world, inside and out. I'd have to be pretty thick to want to leave you."

"Well you're the most beautiful person in the whole universe."

"You're the most beautiful person in my universe."

"That's probably realistic, you haven't experienced much of it yet. Just you wait. We're going to find all sorts of beautiful people on our journey."

"Nothing compares to you."

"Isn't that a song?"

"Is it? Aw, I thought I was being deep and romantic."

"Try again, Howell. At least I think it is. One of those really old ones from like the nineteen nineties or something. Lots of warbling."

"My mum was a warbler. She was always singing."

They were silent for a moment, and Phil rubbed Dan's arm gently. The light was fading fast and the beach was bathed in orange light. For the first time Phil noticed the sun – huge and red and glowing low in the sky.

"Look Dan." He said softly. "The sun's going to set over the water."

A seagull landed on a rock in front of them and surveyed them curiously with its head cocked to one side.

The sun cast a reflection, glittering golden in the rippling waves that rolled quietly in to beak on the flat sand. It was like molten gold: shimmering and undulating, rich and warm, contrasting with the cool dark of the deep water and dense shadows that were creeping up on them. The sky was clear but for a few peach-tinted clouds and wisps tinged almost completely with pink. Seabirds silhouetted black against the sun called mournfully to one another, and the glowing orb seemed to touch the sea, sinking like a great galleon of light.

The reds slipped into pinks that merged with the blue water into deep purples and swirls of magenta and indigo. The orange sun drowned slowly and gracefully down to a semicircle on the flat horizon, and Phil's damp hair rested warm against Dan's chest. The wind in the trees was no more than a whisper above the gentle breaking of waves, and Dan's eyelids were heavy. As the last drops of orange diffused into the purple velvet of the sea and the night, his head fell against Phil's already slumbering shoulders.


	10. Chapter 9

Phil awoke slowly and lazily to the warm caress of bright sun on his skin. Insects buzzed in the long grasses and wind moved through the trees like a murmur of voices. If he listened closely, he could almost pick out words.

Beach

Night

Tide

Naked- wait, naked? Phil's eyes snapped open and his hand flung out to wake up Dan.

"S'matter?" Dan groaned groggily.

"Wake up," Phil hissed. "People. We're naked."

"Whoops," Dan giggled as he took in the sight in front of them.

A small collection of people stood gathered uncertainly around their entwined forms. They were a raggedy bunch, of all ages and backgrounds. Some of the men sported hefty beards and loincloths that suggested they'd been here a long time; while others still hadn't lost the slightly bemused expressions and pallid complexion of the city. They stood a little way back as if afraid to approach, and as Dan made to sit up Phil pulled him forcefully back down.

"Don't move!" he yelped. "You're covering me."

Dan giggled. "I'm sure they've already seen. Hello!" he called. "Enjoying the view?"

A tall, slender woman cloaked in a toga like weave stepped forwards with stern disapproval in her eyes. Her features were long and pointed; her eyes piercing. "Greeting travellers." She said stiffly. "My name is Pyruvar. Welcome to the ark."

Dan looked around, blinking in the sunlight. He certainly didn't see any boats.

Pyruvar pursed her lips. "This whole land has been colonised by our people. The Ark is further east." She gestured along the beach. "But our community extends along the beach between the mouths of the two rivers. You have newly left the city, and as you have stumbled across our lands we'd like to cordially offer our hospitality. I assure you we are one of the most advanced settlements in these parts, and I hope you will do us the pleasure of dining with us this morning."

Phil poked Dan and he started, closing his mouth. "Um. Well, yes, thank you. That's very kind of you. Er…" He looked helplessly at Phil.

"We'd love to. Um, if you'd excuse us for a moment we'd quite like to get dressed first though. We, um. Weren't expecting company." Phil flushed scarlet and one of the woman at the end of the line sniggered, staring pointedly at Dan's tanned midriff.

"Yes. Of course. We will continue our morning patrol to the river collecting supplies and pick you up on the way back. I'm assuming you followed the river to lead you here, and in any case it's not far – we will return within the quarter hour." With that, she nodded to her motley crew and they set off at a brisk trot down the beach with a couple of amused glances back at the blushing couple.

"Christ," Dan muttered as he heaved himself to his feet, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and staring blearily around the beach for their clothes.

"What on earth…" Phil muttered. "The Ark. What do you think that's supposed to mean?"

"No idea." Dan shrugged as he squeezed into his jeans. "Maybe they've built a boat and are planning to sail across the sea."

"I wouldn't put it past that woman. Is it just me or does she look a bit like a vulture?"

Dan snorted. "I see it. Still, free food. Why not."

"Let's hope at least one of them will be a better cook than you." Phil teased.

"They won't have anything on Garth. I miss him already actually." Dan pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, smiling as Phil struggled with his jacket.

"I do. He was nice. And he seemed happy. Food made him happy."

"I got the impression he was just using it for something to pass time until he died." Dan murmured.

"Well. Maybe. Dan… where are my pants?"

Dan grinned wickedly as he took in Phil, covering his pale body awkwardly in the morning sun with a flush in his cheeks.

"I dunno, but you better hope you find them before I do because I've got all the spare clothes right here."

Phil's face drained of colour. "You wouldn't."

"Oh yeah?" Dan's grin widened and Phil yelped in horror, darting frantically towards the trees in search of his underwear.

Dan followed closely behind, sniggering at Phil's shiny white backside. "They're coming back, you better hurry!" He called.

Phil moaned somewhere in the distance and Dan laughed, catching himself on a tree trunk and turning to gaze happily at the sea once more. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pinch on his toe. He cursed, jumping backwards and squinting down at the ground. The sand was bare except for a small shell. He watched curiously, squatting down and giving the pearly spiral a gentle poke with his finger. All at once, a set of spindly legs shot out from under the enamel – lifting up the structure and carrying it scuttling further into the trees. Dan followed, fascinated. He was sure Phil would know what this strange creature was. It scurried sideways and seemed to have a pair of tiny pincers that it brandished menacingly at Dan.

The shell-creature led Dan to a collection of small rocks where it disappeared under a lump of black fabric. Dan coughed once, twice.

"Hey Phil!" Dan called. "I found your boxers."

Phil came crashing out of the undergrowth almost immediately. "Thank God." He muttered. "How did they get all the way out here?!"

He scooped up the pants hurriedly and shrugged them up to his waist.

"Woah, wait Phil, you might not want to do that - there was this weird-"

"OWWWWWW!"

* * *

x

* * *

Hermit crabs, it transpired, have a habit of stealing unattended property. Their pincers, however small, are sharp and used liberally by the vicious warriors and no amount of laughter dulls the pain. Phil later grudgingly agreed that it was the best thing that could have happened to them – the people of the ark, whilst initially hostile, accepted them graciously into their arms as a pair of loveable clowns to direct their own misfortunes at. There were forty-eight members in total, a number which was constantly in flux. The small gathering party they had met were the most able and active of the settlers and entertained Dan and Phil with tales of harrowing battles with wild beasts throughout the long trek down the beach.

"I'd be dead if I hadn't found the Ark," a young woman named Hetta told them, her voice sombre. She had dark skin and a heavy braid of glossy black hair that hung to her waist, adorned with beads and shells and twists of coloured twine. "I was all alone. My partner died just one month after we left the city - he was bitten by a wildcat and there was nothing I could do. The wound became infected and he died feverish and agonized in my arms. I was close to giving up. I tried to find my way back to the city, hoping and praying that they might be able to take me back in, but I ended up by the sea. It's was beautiful and like nothing I'd ever seen before so I stayed a few days. It's a good place for thinking, especially at night or in the early hours of the morning – the sound of the sea is so calming, don't you think? I stumbled across the Ark the next morning and they took me in. They gave me hope, friendship, safety and the prospect of a future – I'd never had that before. I guess I believed everything they said about the outside world. I don't know, I just had this view of an infestation of deadly bacteria that would take my life within the month. It's not like that though. You can live a long and happy life. I hope you'll join us."

Dan and Phil exchanged a glance. In their plans they had never considered joining a group of settlers. Like Hetta they had assumed they wouldn't have time for things like that.

Pyruvar was the self-elected ruler of the colony, but most people were happy to follow her. An elderly man named Jones with a necklace of seashells told them of how she had had lived on her own for years, building the ark all day every day, obsessed by the vision in her head. He had been the first to join her.

"It took us two years to complete. Of course, we had hordes of people helping out by the second year. It's a work of sweat and love. A beautiful sight. Our home and our saviour," he said fondly. His voice was old and hoarse with a meandering quality like the gurgle of a stream that made it hard to make out. His face crinkled into a smile, his skin a leathery bronze deeply lined and weather-worn and his eyes a clear, sparkling blue.

He wasn't like the elderly people in the city. They had no wrinkles, just a pale, stretched and drawn quality to their faces. Their eyes were dull and clouded and they moved slowly. Jones walked with a spring in his step and light in his eyes and, for the first time, Dan felt an overwhelming sense of hope welling up inside of him.


	11. Chapter 10

The trail of walking, chattering people grew silent and hushed as they drew close to a copse of dense trees, blocking their view to the rest of the beach. Everyone seemed to be watching Dan and Phil with anticipation and Phil sensed that they were watching for their reaction.

"I'm guessing the Ark is on the other side of these trees?" he asked Jones.

"Aye, that it is." Jones grinned a toothless grin, watching them eagerly.

They were plunged into a cool shade as they entered the trees, the wind in the palm fronds like rustling paper above their heads. Jones stooped to pick up a fallen coconut, cracking it open and draining the milk thirstily before tossing the meat in the food cart. The bright yellow light of the sun reflecting off the sand was visible through the trees and the party seemed to draw close around Dan and Phil, the air trembling with anticipation.

While the cities offered staggering spirals of sheer glass reaching towards the clouds and architecture stunning enough to leave you breathless, everything was mechanical and calculated. It was built with machines and computers, clean cut and slick. The Ark was none of these things. It was a great wooden structure crudely resembling a boat, built on stilts, with the prow half out to sea. A decking of pale palm wood ran around the perimeter with a house shaped structure of heavy, dark wood in the centre. Where the stilts shortened and the base of the boat touched the sand there was an opening in the curved wood, sheltered by an awning of palm leaves supported by thin bamboo poles. It shaded most of the upper beach where the sharp, spindly grasses had been cleared away and the hard ground dusted with a fine layer of soft sand to create a shaded courtyard. Fallen trees had been dragged around a huge fire pit like benches and three women argued animatedly around a cook pot. Damp bed sheets hung over a thin line, swaying gently in the wind, and in one corner two young women pored intently over a map. The sound of laughter drifted up the beach and Dan spotted the dark shapes of figures bobbing up and down in the waves. At the edge of the awning, closest to the forest, a raft was being constructed out of thin logs strung together with vines; and all around them voices called over the roll of the waves.

Beside Phil's shoulder, Jones chuckled. Phil blinked, blushing and snapping his mouth shut.

"Everyone's reactions are always like that," Hetta grinned. "It's pretty cool, right? We work hard, but it's a labour of love. No one thought to bring work tools with them from the city so it's never easy. When the storms come we're repairing for days. You can always find things in the abandoned cities, but that's never a fun trip. It's horrible, truly. Skeletons that once held so much free life and vitality, just rotting away. Built on the graves of millions."

"Don't mind Hetta, she likes to get deep sometimes." A small girl with mousey hair and a crinkly nose grinned at them from behind a sunhat of leaves and twine.

Pyruvar was striding ahead, calling out to the settlers that milled around the base of the Ark. "We have visitors! Let's fry some fish for lunch. May, how's that weaving coming along? We'll need something for our friends to sleep on tonight."

A girl no older than sixteen sat hunched over a rush mattress, her brow furrowed in concentration. She jumped at the sound of her name.

"Yes," she squeaked. "It'll be finished by this evening miss."

Pyruvar closed her eyes momentarily, forcing a smile over her thin lips. "Now dear, you're not at school any more, remember? You ran away. No need to call me miss."

The small girl nodded, her cheeks red and her eyes wide. Phil frowned. She was clearly terrified of this woman. In fact, the settlers parted to make way for her intimidating gait. An aura of respect followed her like a cloud, swelling out to touch the people she passed.

"Is she nice? Pyruvar?" Phil muttered to Hetta.

"She's worked very hard all her life." Hetta chose her words carefully. "I certainly wouldn't want her job. She's passionate, maybe to the obsessive point. You see…"

She was cut off by a sudden flurry of activity as the settlers began unloading their cart heavy with fruit from the morning forage. It was passed along a human chain into the depths of the Ark and Dan and Phil made their way curiously towards the heavy oaken doors.

Inside was surprisingly light and airy, high windows allowing the morning sun to filter down through the dust. The bowels of the ship held a huge hall, stocked with tables and chairs for many times their number. The ceiling was high and seemed to stretch right to the roof of the Ark. The side walls were lined with doors and archways leading off to storage rooms and at one end was a winding staircase that lead up three levels. At each level was a balcony that circled the hall, the doors disappearing into the walls just visible over the wooden railings.

"Want the grand tour?" Hetta was panting after lugging heavy crates into a deep cellar. She led them towards the back of the hall, pointing to rooms as they passed them.

"Most of our temporary storage space is here at the front so we don't have to transport the supplies very far. There's an emergency store right down at the bottom but we've only had to use that twice while I've been here. These back rooms are communal, for when the weather's awful and no one wants to go outside. We've got a few books salvaged from the cities and some games and stuff. That's the kitchen – it's pretty massive. Everything's built on a large scale, you see - we want to make sure no one gets turned away. Second and third floors are the cabins although most of them are empty, as you can imagine. Third floor's where the decking comes out and that's our main communal space. The cockpit's right at the front with all the stuff for steering and navigating."

"Wait – do you mean this is an actual boat?" Dan blinked.

"Of course it is. What did you think it was?" Hetta laughed.

"I thought it was just a big house, designed to look like a ship because it's near the sea."

"Now that would be a waste of time, we don't bother with aesthetics here. That's why we left the cities, remember? No, it's a real boat alright. We've got space for a motor too – but the nearest dockyard is many miles away. We aim to swell our numbers more before we think about sending a party down to try and find one powerful enough. It's a bit of a debate actually, some say we'll never get it working even if we do manage to support it back here. We don't have any electricity yet, you see. I mean, we're working on it. But it's difficult. Everything in the cities has been there so long. It's all rusted and corroded. Some want to just push off to sea and go wherever the current takes us. But how do we know that we'll end up somewhere better than here? Most likely we'll arrive three hours later in France. A little bit of an anti-climax, don't you think?"

"Where do you want to go?" Phil frowned.

"There's been talk… only talk, mind you, of an island in the pacific where the refusers go. It's said to be the most beautiful place you'll ever see. A paradise. It was never colonised by man, so the bacteria isn't as strong. People live a long time there. It's warm and there's enough food for millions. Only we've no idea if such a place actually exists. Mostly we're going because we all left to see the world – the whole world. As much of it as we can, in any case," she said wistfully.

Dan and Phil exchanged a glance. "How long will it take though? To be ready to go?" Dan asked tentatively.

"Oh, many years." Hetta shrugged. "I've come to terms with the fact that I'll probably never taste the fruits of Utopia. I work for the future generations in the hope that, thanks to me, a new generation of humans - emotionally free humanity - will emerge. That's Pyruvar's dream. She longs for children whose blood has never been tainted. We've no idea what true, real humans are, you realise. We've only experienced people whose minds have been altered – some for many years. A pure child, now that would be a thing of beauty."

"But surely… surely you can't do that?" Dan's eyes were wide. "That's not fair though, this is a choice. We know we won't live very long. You can't do that to a child."

"Pyruvar won't rest until she has. She was a refuser in New London for many years. She wasn't selfish though - she kept up the protective clothing and disinfection so she was allowed to stay. Until one day she met a boy at a gathering for refusers. They threw protection to the wind - just for one day. They were young. If that worked, thousands would have done it already. She became pregnant and her partner died four months later. She couldn't tell anyone, or they'd terminate the child immediately, so she left." Her voice became sombre. "She lost the child alone in the woods. A baby boy. He didn't last 24 hours. I can barely begin to imagine the pain she went through. She was driven onwards by her pain though, determined that it was possible to bring a child into the world without antibiotics. She's a big believer in the natural world. After all, we did it when we were cavemen and animals still do it now. You see, these days if you get an infection you're dead, but that wasn't always the case. We had immune systems that could fight off a lot of infections, but they have been weakened through generations of never having to fight anything. Pyruvar hopes for pure humans – each generation living a little longer than the last."

* * *

x

* * *

By late afternoon, the rain had started to fall so the settlers gathered in the bowels of the Ark to dine. Dan and Phil had been awarded pride of place at the centre of the table across from Pyruvar herself.

"How long do people live here at the Ark?" Dan asked, helping himself to mashed potato.

"Our eldest is sixt-eight. However some die within months of leaving the city - it's mostly a matter of luck. Average life expectancy out here is not much more than forty because our healthcare is limited, as I'm sure you can imagine. We do our best. Medicine is at the top of our priorities for the moment as it's so vital for our survival. What did you study? I'm assuming you never got to the working stage. Both so young," Pyruvar sighed, but there was a glint in her eye.

"I did biology," Phil said.

Her face lit up. "Really? Do you know anything about medicinal plants? Anything at all? This is thrilling – you're exactly what we've been looking for. Both men, too!"

"What do you mean 'both men'," Dan snorted, "what else would we be?"

"Haven't you noticed? Our male to female ratio is completely skewed. All the men here are much older than you and have become infertile due to prolonged exposure to all the hormone suppressors shot into their veins. We don't stand a hope of building a new generation without you boys!"

"Er…" Dan spluttered. "We're kind of both gay, um, sorry, but we won't be much use to you."

"That doesn't matter!" Her eyes were burning vividly. "You won't need to marry the girl. And I'm sure that while you're not doing the rounds you can be together. You have brought the beacon of hope into our society."

"I – we, can't do that - like – it just wouldn't work. I'm not going to go round attempting to impregnate all 60 girls or whatever it is – I'm really, really gay." Dan's faced was transfixed with horror as he stared perplexed at Pyruvar's unyielding grin.

"You must, though! It's for the greater good of humanity! Don't you understand? Is this not what you left for? The dream of a pure, untainted human race living as nature intended on the beautiful Island of Utopia." Her glare was almost manic with glee, her eyes unfocused – seeing instead perhaps the tropical island paradise she had fantasised over for so many years.

"But, Pyruvar, it doesn't happen like that," Phil said meekly. "Humanity moved into the cities because we couldn't live like that anymore. We died too young. I mean you can't raise your pure child if you're dead. People were getting sick all the time, especiallythe babies. The population fell by half – it was unsustainable and the whole human race would have died out! It was the only option, don't you see? No one wants to be sprayed with bleach every few metres and have to wear plastic suits and gloves all the time but without it there wouldn't be any humans left anymore, pure or tainted. The control packs made it a little bit easier. The reason we left is because we chose to accept an early and painful death in order to love freely and think freely for however many months we could keep going."

Pyruvar shook her head furiously. "You speak like one of them, like there is no hope. There is always hope. Humanity will prosper – I am sure of it. On our island there is hope. It was never inhabited by humans so the bacteria never evolved resistance – don't you see? It's like a whole new world – ours for the taking. And this time we won't mess it up. We will use antibiotics sparingly, and in a controlled environment. Our children will play in the mud without fear, for their immune systems will be strong like a tiger's. We're not asking much of you. A few women a night, strictly business of course, until we have some pregnancies. It will be the next generation that makes it to the Island, not us. So they must be strong – they can't be cityborn. My Ark is the saviour of thousands, it will take the pure and fertile away from corruption and mental clouding to colonise afresh this Earth which we have so abused. I will not suffer a cityborn to sail my Ark."

"You'll be dead," Dan said bluntly. "There won't be a lot you can do about it. And anyway, is your motto not all about saving everyone – taking them in and promising them a future no matter how broken and withered? The Island, assuming it actually exists, would have to be really small to be both fertile enough to support life yet also uninhabited, so you might want to rethink your procreation plan. If you turn up with a boatload of babies and families desperate to reproduce, anyone living there is probably going to send you right back to where you came from."

Pyruvar was speechless, her glare icy and her lips pursed into a thin line. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice low and seething. "We can work around your stubbornness. We need only your sperm – we can do city style. It's not natural, but it's life."

"Our sperm," Dan spat. "They'd be my kids, and they'd be doomed from birth – if by some miracle they survived it. Childbirth without any form of sterilization? You're mad. They'd be infected the moment they took their first breath and I will not do that to innocent life."

"There are other ways to do this. I may not be a biologist, but I'm pretty sure there's a good store of sperm in both of your testicles. You won't be needing them after all - you two couldn't procreate if you tried," she hissed.

"Keep your spiny hands off my balls!" Dan yelped.

The room fell hushed suddenly. The small crowd of muttering onlookers swelled as everyone span round in their seats to stare, and Dan flushed red, his hand gripping Phil's under the table. They stared around with wide eyes, half expecting to be attacked and maimed at any moment.

From their left, Hetta's mellow, soothing voice sounded. "No one will be taking anything from someone without their permission. Is that not why we left? Freedom of mind and body. Freedom of choice. That is what we stand for here Pyruvar, above all else. We most of us share your dream, but for now at least it is just that. A dream. We are not ready to feed and deliver a baby yet; it would be foolish to make any rash decisions."

Pyruvar didn't say anything, staring coldly across the table. Her back was rigid, and her shoulders trembled slightly.

Hetta waited another moment, then turned back to Dan. "If you are finished, I can show you to your room – you do not need to fear, no one will be slipping in in the dead of night with a kitchen knife and a jar."

Phil flashed her a weak smile, turning uncertainly to Dan. They made to get up but were interrupted by another, even quieter hiss from across the table.

"This is my Ark. I built it from the ground with nothing but my bare hands. It has become a home to hundreds. Do not speak to me, child, as if I have not known death. Hundreds have passed through these doors. And hundreds have died in my care, because I couldn't save them. Because the sickness had already taken hold. But I can lead my people to Utopia. You may mock me as you wish, I do not care for it. I have my kingdom – my Ark – of the survivors from humanity's war against its very essence." Her voice grew louder as she addressed the room. "I have seen suffering and I have suffered, as have we all. The pain makes me stronger. I am more human than any of those silent, happy city dwellers ever will be – it is pain that makes us strong. It is hardship that drives us onwards into appreciating happiness all the more, thriving off the constant struggle of life. Pure, vivid, natural life. We are naturalists. We live under the trees and under the stars with all other living things at our side in this battle, because this is a war. This is a war against our most basic of human instincts – survival. Longevity. We give it up, because we share a dream. Utopia is our goal. I have built you this Ark and taken you under my wing, and I will lead you to salvation. I am more than a woman. I am human."

The hall erupted into cheers and Dan and Phil stared perplexed at one another. This was a dramatic turn of events. Pyruvar was stood now, shaking hands and accepting thanks from the people who had too risen to their feet to gather round her.

Hetta raised her eyebrows and ushered them quietly down towards the back of the hall and up the wooden staircase.

"Inspirational, huh," she muttered.

"I'm not exactly sure what just happened." Dan shook his head.

"She's a very proud woman." Hetta sighed. "And she has every right to be - she's been through a lot. You challenged her in front of all the people she rules over. She couldn't just let that stand – she had to switch it round. She fears mutiny above all else, that one day people will stop believing in her and abandon ship or, worse still, head back to a city. She has to keep them passionate and emotional – that's why we all work so hard all day. People are far more compliant when feeling both tired but happy. Set people building a raft, it's fairly simple and by the end of the day they will be buzzing with the sense of achievement and too tired to think for themselves, listening cheerily to anything she has to say." She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Of course, these rafts do have a purpose – one day they're going to lash them all together and sail down the coast in search of this probably fictitious or broken boat motor for our voyage to Utopia. I guess they'll worry about things like fuel and actual mechanical propellers later. It's a dream – I'm not stupid, I'm living in a dreamland. But isn't life just one big dream?"

She smiled sadly at Dan and Phil, then continued. "You work for your future, all the time. This is no different. Here, I am happier than I've ever been. It's like the family none of us ever had. We were raised in glass cases and taught through screens – this is my dreamland. Anyway, here's your room. There's a bolt on the door if you're worried but I wouldn't be too scared if I were you - she's not the type to sneak in in the dead of night. It's not her style – definitely not righteousness enough. Goodnight, friends, comrades, sailors – whatever we're using now. I lose track. I hope you will stay with us. Goodnight."


	12. Chapter 11

The rush mattress was soft and the food was plentiful so they stayed, if only for a little while, trying to decide where their path lay in life. Over the course of the week Dan's cough worsened and he started to notice people watching him apprehensively as he worked and giving him a wide berth whenever they needed to pass. Hetta grew steadily more concerned.

"I am no doctor, but I have often healed people here," she said softly one morning. "You have a virus, maybe. But your immune system is weak. The virus will leave you more susceptible to bacteria, and the bacteria will kill you. You must fight it. You must eat well. Really, you need herbs and vitamins to help you. I can offer you a tea infusion which might calm the cough, but I have little faith in its healing powers. We are not the city. We all left to get away from their fear of death, and we will not cast you away for your sickness, but everyone fears death. You may find yourself cast out even so. If it does not pass, you will need medicine. Till then, drink my tea so that people will not realise you are sick and you may be happy."

Dan nodded thankfully. The tea was slightly sweet and refreshing, and it soothed him to sleep each night and calmed his aching throat. He visited Hetta to take his dose every morning and evening with Jones, who had been drinking it for years and swore by it for his longevity.

"This tea has given life to my old bones like I never had back in the city," he said one morning with a contented smile as he sipped the steaming liquid. "Why, I've seen all the sights of Southern England. I've sailed a handmade raft down the coastline and back again. I've married seven couples and witnessed the birth of wild animals comfortable in my presence. These are wonders like you'll never see behind those walls."

"Wait – did you say you'd married people?" Dan asked, surprised. "I didn't think that happened anymore, because, you know, no relationships."

"We live like in olden times out here. Marriage is one of the greatest pleasures in life. We love a good wedding, any excuse for a party. Celebrating what we gave up our lives for. Love. Freedom. The truest and purest of happiness. I love to live in love."

"Excuse me a minute." Dan tipped back the rest of his tea and jumped to his feet, a huge grin on his face, and sprinted off towards the sea.

Jones and Hetta exchanged a glance and chuckled quietly into their tea.

* * *

x

* * *

The wedding was as wild and as beautiful as Jones had promised. The whole settlement came alive with preparations, gifts being pressed on the happy couple from all sides. A tie, a smart jacket, an extravagant necklace of flowers and shells and crowns of daisies. The stores were opened wide and an aged wine brought out into the sunlight. An archway of bamboo and vines was pulled together within an hour and the Ark was hung heavy with candles and blossoms. The air was thick with the sweet scent of the flowers and the tantalizing wafts coming up from the kitchens in the base of the Ark set to work for the first time since the winter months. The beach was alive with excitement and anticipation.

Dan and Phil had been kept separate all morning, each surrounded by hordes of almost manic settlers pampering and primping them ready for the afternoon ceremony. The girl weaving flowers through Phil's hair chattered animatedly away to him as she worked about her own wedding two years previously.

"It was autumn and the trees were bathed in gold and orange and red. We had an evening wedding, the sunset made everything so perfect. It was cool but not cold. We had a bonfire – the biggest one ever on this beach. Everyone cried. People always do at weddings – the happiest of tears. I cried buckets. I'll always remember his face. The fire and the sin and the trees reflecting off the tears that ran down his cheeks all the way to his big, soft, grinning lips." She sighed. "I miss him every day. Pyruvar was so thrilled when we got engaged. We were going to have a baby. He died less than a month after we were married."

"I'm so sorry." Phil said softly.

She shook her head. "He's gone. He was the one for me, I know I'll never love again. But that's okay because the time we had was worth it. Worth all the pain in the world."

A thought struck Phil suddenly. Would he and Dan finally cry? It was their quest for tears that had started them on this whole journey. And this was a fitting way to fulfil it – happy tears, not at all the type they were hoping for, here on this beautiful beach on the happiest day of their lives. He smiled. Despite the sombre topic, she had set a warmth burning in his chest.

* * *

x

* * *

When the bells tolled both Dan and Phil were surprised – the settlers had kept that one hidden from them. Drums beat too and the gentle pluck of strings filled their ears. The whole back pew stood up and, to Phil's delight, burst at once into joyous song. Phil had opted to wait at the altar, nervously straightening his bowtie and receiving multiple winks from Jones who had donned a startling purple tux. Phil himself had more flowers and shells than suit and he felt a bit self-conscious covered in so much colour. All of that faded away however when he spotted Dan making his way awkwardly down the aisle on Pyruvar's arm. Phil sniggered. She stood upright and stiff, walking with small sharp steps. Her bony elbow was clearly digging into Dan's side and he walked slightly bent at the middle, wincing in pain. As soon as he spotted Phil though his whole face spread into a smile.

The ceremony was short, but emotional. They laughed through their tears and almost forgot to do any kissing because they were hugging each other too hard. Flower petals rained down on them (an advantage of having a wedding in the summer) and the whole beach erupted into song. Every settler rushed forwards to express their congratulations in the form of a tight hug or a quick peck; even Pyruvar offered her cheek. It was timed perfectly; the sun setting over the water in glorious golds and reds just as the reception swung into life. A sweet wine was produced from somewhere in the depths of the Ark and it was here, exhausted from dancing and crying and laughing, that Dan and Phil made their pledge to Hetta.

"Even if we don't stay forever," Dan slurred, a blissful grin on his face. "We'll come back. We'll always come back. That's a promise. You guys. You guys are the best. Pyruvar's a bit stiff, but the rest of you are really cool."

Hetta just grinned and pulled them both into her arms.

* * *

x

* * *

When the night began to wash over the shore with the waves, the happy couple were shown staggering and giggling to a tiny, candlelit glade in the forest surrounded by a veil of delicate vines. There was a small pool, a hammock and a huge, plush mattress that someone had dragged through the trees. Phil blushed when he thought of the people lighting all the candles in preparation for their evening. The party left with much laughter and sniggering and all at once Dan and Phil were alone.

Dan grinned stupidly at Phil's pale face, glowing in the flickering light.

"I love you," he mumbled.

"Isn't that the whole point of tonight?" Phil giggled.

"Yeah but like, I really love you," Dan slurred.

"I love you more."

"No, I love you more."

"I love you more than you love me."

"I love you more than the world."

"I love you more than the whole universe."

"I love you more than infinity."

"I love you more than infinity plus one. Ha!"

"I love you more than infinity plus two."

"Wait, no. you can't do that. I love you more than infinity plus infinity."

"Doesn't that just make infinity again?"

"I don't know. Does it?"

"Yeah. By the way. I love you."

"I love you more."

"Wait. Aren't we supposed to be doing something now?"

"Yeah, I think so. Can't remember what though."

"Okay. Let's just go to bed."

"Yeah. Night."

"Night night. Love you."

"Love you more."

* * *

x

* * *

They made friends at the Ark that swelled a new wave of happiness into their hearts. Every day was full of love and laughter. It was as Hetta had said: they worked hard, but they were happy. It wasn't until Dan's cough stopped him lifting heavy lumber that Pyruvar took them aside.

"The people are scared. We will never cast someone out, but Dan is sick. He needs medicine, or he will find himself outcast. No one wants that and no one wants to do that, but they don't want to die either. Hetta has assured me it can be cured so I recommend taking a trip to a trader and herbalist who we often trade with for medicinal herbs and equipment. It is not far, but I'm sure you'll want to take in the scenery and take your time. A week, perhaps. Is that something you're interested in? It is far better to act now than to wait until it becomes serious."

Dan turned to Phil and shrugged. "Sure. I'm up for some travelling."

Pyruvar smiled. "I am glad. We do not want to lose you. You have made fast bonds with many of our number, and have become valuable members of our community. We hope you will hurry back to us, when you do decide to go. You won't linger on the mountain. The view is nice, but the herbalist is a mean and repulsive creature who lives alone in his cave lording over his hoard. We call him the dragon," she grinned. "He protects his goods with a vicious bite. But he is not so dangerous, you need not be afraid."

* * *

x

* * *

The day before they left for the mountain they were introduced to Madeleine - the pride and joy of the settlers, for she was eight months pregnant. She spent most of her days walking the sand and resting in the shade and for that reason Dan and Phil had never spoken to her before besides a brief hug at the wedding.

"How do you do?" Her voice was soft like bells and carried a slight Northern twang to it. "I hear you're venturing up to meet the dragon?" she smiled.

"Madeleine's been a fair few times herself to get supplies for the baby." Pyruvar placed a protective hand around the shorter woman's shoulders. "She's best equipped for teaching you how to deal with the man. We have a map of these parts that will help; it's not too difficult to find though. It's rather large and grey."

Madeleine giggled. "The view from the top is quite something."

"Thank you, a map will be really useful actually," Phil said. "We are planning on travelling around a bit, seeing the world. We will return though - we've promised Hetta. Even if we find something amazing we will always come back to visit."

"And we will hold you to that," Pyruvar laughed. "There is a small group of people that reside near the mountain but I doubt you will come into contact with them, and if you do then you wouldn't enjoy it. You think my views are extreme…" She shook her head. "There are no real dangers in your path though, we travel it often in search of supplies. There are agricultural plains all around the base of the mountain - hideously overgrown now of course but still plentiful in terms of vegetables. A few wild sheep and goats around too, always a treat."

"I might have a little baby in my arms by the time you get back," Madeleine grinned, a light in her eye.

At those words, Pyruvar beamed.


	13. Chapter 12

They'd set out to see the world and as they climbed upwards and onwards into the thinning air, above the treetops and the thin wisps of cloud that hung close to the ground, they could see more of it than they'd ever seen before. They could see the sea – a thin strip of darker blue under the horizon. The desert was visible in a yellow haze to the east, but thick woodland blocked their view. In places they could see the glint of the river through the trees. From this side of the mountain the north-westerly view was obscured so still they climbed higher, walking in silence and panting slightly as the incline began to increase. Here they walked on exposed rock, the slope bare but for a smattering of pale lichens clinging to the mountainside and some hard, tough grasses springing up through the cracks.

The rock face became sheer suddenly and they were forced to clamber with their hands, scrabbling through the lose stones and over heavy boulders.

"The cave's on the other side right?" Dan panted.

"Yeah," Phil grunted. "Do you need a leg up?"

They helped each other up a craggy hunk of rock, climbing steeply upwards. It was difficult to see where the mountain ended and the sky began; the closer they got the further away the top seemed to loom. Clouds shrouded the peak in a pale white veil that they were only just starting to feel damp on their skin.

"Concentrate, Phil," Dan snapped as Phil slipped, clutching to Dan's jacket as his arms windmilled for balance and his eyes bulged.

He caught his breath in his throat as Dan pulled him roughly back into the rock by the arm.

"Honestly. The closer we get to the clouds the more your head seems to disappear into them. This really isn't the best place for daydreaming Phil. If you fall I'm sure as hell not jumping down after you."

"Wasn't my fault," Phil grumbled. "The ground was lose."

"Watch where you're putting your feet."

"I'm aware Dan. You don't need to complain at me all the time, I'm not completely thick."

"You're smart but you're pretty stupid a lot of the time too."

"And you moan all the time. No one's perfect, now shut up please, I'm trying to concentrate."

"That'll be a first."

"…"

Dan sighed loudly and dramatically, tanling his fingers between Phil's as they waded through a small plain of coarse heather and gorse.

"I'm sorry, I'm a whiny little bitch, I know. You should have thought about that before you married me."

"Stupidest thing I've ever done," Phil mumbled.

"I agree. You're an idiot." Dan grinned as Phil rolled his eyes. "Come on. Race you to the top."

"Don't look yet," Dan said, gasping for breath and coughing as they mounted the peak. "Up there!"

He gestured to a great, grey boulder that rested squarely on the flat peak as if placed there by a mighty mountain giant. The sides were almost vertical but with a little shoving and pulling they clambered to their feet on top of the world.

What little breath they had left was snatched out of their lungs in a gust of chill wind as they took in the panorama of colour. The base of the mountain was covered in a rug of green trees, scarfed with molten gold from the sinking sun. The lake reflected the mountain in a perfect, mirror like clarity, the water cold and blue like the sky. To the west stretched great plains of scrublands that might once have been agricultural fields, dotted with trees and winding streams and rivers. It was to the north however that their attention was drawn, their faces frozen.

To the north lay the remains of a great and sprawling city. The shells of skyscrapers stretched into the sky, their empty windows like hollow eyes staring over the land. Roads twisted between derelict and crumbling buildings, but the streets were empty and the windows dark. All colour had washed out of this wasteland with the rain. It was dead and grey, and it stretched as far as their eyes could see.

"London," Phil whispered. "The old city."

Dan hand slipped into Phil's and suddenly the wind seemed cold and lonely. It whistled mournfully around their shoulders, but they could not turn away. They had noticed a smattering of houses at the base of the mountain, but their abandonment had allowed trees and vines and flowers to grow through the windows and up through the brick work creating a kind of peaceful, fairytale beauty. No trees grew in the ruins of the great and powerful capital city. Even nature had forsaken it, the greenery stopping long short of the outer perimeter of concrete and rubble.

"I want to go down there," Dan said suddenly.

Phil turned to him with a start. "Are you mad? It'll be full of disease. It's just a graveyard Dan – there are millions buried under the city, they even had to start transporting bodies in trucks out of the city because they'd run out of space."

"Isn't the whole world just a graveyard? The soil is made from dead plants and animals. We're all living on the remains of others, and when we die we'll give ourselves up to future life in exactly the same way. It's been sixty years since anyone lived there, and all the bodies are deep underground. The bacteria will have died by now, I'm sure of it. Can we go see, please? I get that it's a bit morbid. But we're seeing the world, right? All of it? That city is just as much a part of the Earth now as this mountain. The beach settlers at the Ark get all their supplies from abandoned towns and cities, I'm sure it's just as safe as those. It's just a little bit bigger is all. We could use some more blankets, especially if we're going to be around for winter. We didn't prepare for the long term remember."

"Okay…" said Phil, his voice unsure. "It might not be safe though. What if there are still people living there? Or animals?"

"No more so than anywhere else we've been. Come on, let's go visit the dragon. I've got plenty of time to persuade you – I reckon it'll take a couple of days to get right into the actual city."

Phil followed with a sigh as Dan slipped carefully off the edge of the boulder and offered a hand to him. He walked in silence, lost deep in thought as they headed over to the northern face of the mountain to find the promised path. It was the empty windows, he thought. They swallowed all light. They were black and faceless, long since having lost their glass, and they seemed to be staring with a quiet malice right into Phil's soul.

* * *

x

* * *

The spotted the cave almost instantly. From the descriptions of the settlers they'd expected something a bit more subtle and secretive but it was really just a large hole in the side of the mountain. Dan and Phil exchanged a glance, unsure how to approach. The rabbits they had caught hung at Dan's side and his hand went to them automatically as if to hold them out in front of him.

They walked carefully up to the cave entrance, acutely aware of the noise their feet made as they crunched on the loose gravel path. Dan was just about to speak when a voice slipped out from the dark hole.

"Who's there?" The voice was high and sneering, and it echoed alarmingly around the stone walls.

Dan cleared his throat. "Mr Greyson, sir?"

"Yes. That's me. What do you want?"

"Er, we came to offer you a trade. We brought rabbits."

"Rabbits? What do I want with rabbits. Go away."

"But – Jones said you needed food-"

"Ach. The sea people sent you, did they? Slimy little fishes the lot of them. Heads full of seawater. That means you want something. I don't have anything. Go away."

"We've brought rabbits," Dan repeated desperately. "Four of them, fresh and very tender. We just want some medicine and healing herbs."

"Rabbits? Everyone always brings me food. There's nothing special about food. There's lots of special things about my special healing herbs. Food is dead. These keep you alive. Is that all you've got?"

Dan turn wordlessly to Phil, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

"Um, we've got shells and stones and pretty things from the lake and the sea?" Phil tried.

"Two of you?! Ach! What kind of pretty things?"

"Can we show you?" Phil asked tentatively.

There was silence for a moment, and they held their breath.

"Alright. Better not be wasting my time. I have a gun you know, a working one. Come in then – just a little bit."

Cautiously they rounded the corner, squinting into the dark.

It was like Aladdin's cave but without the treasure. The hollow space was lit by a collection of flickering candles and blinking LED lights strapped precariously to the walls and ceiling. Shelves and cases lined every wall, crammed full with junk and odd bits with seemingly no systematic ordering. A whole cluster of broken chairs huddled in the centre of the room and in one corner there was a rickety table and chair covered by a threadbare checkered tablecloth. Books spilled off one shelf into a wicker basket full of wool and knitting needles. A guitar without any strings was propped up against a cracked medicine cabinet stocked with a full silver service. A garish pink dress hung from a crack in the ceiling next to a whole row of multi-coloured ties. As they stared what Phil had originally assumed to be a pile of rags stirred, straightened up and fixed its beady black eyes on the couple.

"Well? Don't touch anything. I know thieves when I see them. Only one thing on their minds. You stay away from my things you hear? Now show me what you have, though I can't imagine I'll have any interest in it." Greyson was short and stumpy, haggard, with a full, thick dark beard tangled and matted almost to his waist. "Come along, I don't have all day."

Reluctantly, Dan pulled a handful of small shells from the pouch at his belt and held them out alongside the rabbits.

"This won't do. I could pick these up anywhere. You said you had something special." He snapped.

Hurriedly Phil plunged his hands into his pockets. "I have stones, well I think they might be glass actually. But they're all smooth and pretty and the light shines through them."

Dan frowned as Phil presented the small collection of brightly coloured pebbles. He'd walked for three hours along the beach collecting them.

"You could make them into a mobile that reflects the light, like drill a hole through the middle and hang them on thread with some wind chimes maybe." Phil continued.

The small man frowned, his fingers disappearing thoughtfully into his greasy beard. "Might get a good price for that," he muttered. "Creative. Some are nice. Some aren't. I'll take the shells too of course, and the rabbits. You have more shells. I know you do. I want those as well. Bigger shells. And more food – I know you won't have come all the way up here with naught but rabbits you intend to sell. Don't be shy now, you have fruit. And vegetables too I should warrant. Hand 'em over. Come, come this way. To the pantry."

Dan opened his mouth indignantly but Phil shook his head, pulling him by the hand through the archway after Greyson's retreating figure.

"I have everything counted, don't even think about it." Greyson's voice drifted through the winding passageway and Dan frowned. There was no way he could have seen him admiring a heavy leather jacket that hung from a ledge.

The pantry was larger even than the front room, stocked to the ceiling with dried and cured meats, vegetables and hundreds of tiny labelled jars. Greyson bustled about, snatching the rabbits from Dan's hand and placing them on a chopping board while he climbed a tall ladder to reach a row of jars on the top shelf.

Dan shook his head in disgust as he took in the store. "Are you sure you have enough room for those rabbits we took a whole day to catch?" he asked scathingly.

Greyson ignored him, filling a small pouch with pinches of green and humming under his breath. He didn't look much like a dragon.

"Alright, this should ease it off a bit. Maybe even cure it, but you can never be sure," he said, hopping down off the ladder and presenting the pouch.

"There's barely anything in here!" Dan exclaimed.

"That's powerful stuff. If you don't want it I'll have it back." The small man narrowed his eyes. "Now let's have those stones. And the shells, more shells remember. I want at least twenty. Those herbs take months to grow and mature."

"Twenty?!" Phil spluttered.

"You heard me. Come this way, I want to show you something. Look! Look here!" He had taken them into a crevice in the rock wall, almost invisible from the pantry and shrouded with a gaudy jewelled drape. Inside was a black velvet cushion, on top of which nestled a pair of iridescent pale pearl droplet earrings and a heavy silver necklace, adorned with a jewel that looked suspiciously like a small diamond.

"It's real! Real diamond!" Greyson said gleefully. "I got it from this woman, nasty old thing. Tottered all the way up here wanting potions and treatments only she wouldn't tell me what for, said it was personal. Well I took her into my pantry and she grabbed the prettiest bottles off the shelf, and told me she wanted them so I obliged. I am a man of my word and she paid fairly, if taking a bit of… persuasion to cough up a decent prize. Of course she insisted on buying my entire supply of nightshade berries. Probably thought they were pretty. So I waited a few days and then wandered down the mountain to find her little old dead body and that gorgeous, big, fat diamond. It's my prize. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Did you tell her they were poisonous?" Phil asked, shocked.

"She didn't ask." Greyson sniggered. "She was so demanding, I just did what I was told. She bought bandages too. Think they were for her son or something, doesn't matter – I got them back pretty quickly." He shuffled back out towards the cave entrance and Dan and Phil followed, disgusted.

"Did she say how old the son was?" Phil asked, staring reproachfully down at the bald patch on his head.

"Might have mentioned it. Baby I think. He'll be long dead now." Greyson cackled. "Maybe I should have gone to find him, seen if she gave any pretty jewels to her pretty little boy. Too late now anyhow. Well, goodbye friends, maybe we'll do business again. You'll have to bring a more generous offering next time though – I have shells coming out of my ears."

Dan shook his head slowly and Phil's eyes were wide with horror.

"Let's go," Phil whispered.

Dan nodded. "I wanna get as far away from this disgusting little man as possible."

Greyson's cackles followed them out blinking into the sunlight. "Bring more shells next time!" he called.


	14. Chapter 13

Close up it was more terrifying than they could have imagined. It was eerily quiet. Not even a breath of wind seemed to stir between the tall buildings and there was no sign of life or colour in the bleak and desolate wasteland. Their footsteps echoed off the concrete walls. They walked close together, clinging tightly to one another's hands. Here and there were signs that people had been there before – drawers turned out on the streets, lighting fixtures ripped from their sockets – scavenging for anything they could find, but quickly, eager to get out of this graveyard.

Dan coughed.

"Take your medicine," Phil said automatically.

"I know Phil. I get it. I'm doing it," Dan muttered, but his voice lacked any real emotion.

They were hushed into silence – even their breathing seemed loud here. It was sombre and threatening. The dark behind the window and doorframes could have housed a thousand lurking eyes, watching them silently. Accusation in their hollow stares. Dan shuddered.

"You okay?" Phil whispered.

"Yeah. Fine. Remind me why I thought this was a good idea…" Dan murmured.

"No idea." Phil attempted a watery smile. "We're here now. Do you wanna look around for stuff that might be useful then? Because we'll have to go further in. These buildings have all been stripped bare."

"I guess we're here now." Dan shivered again. "Don't let go of my hand."

Phil gave him a reassuring squeeze and they tiptoed onwards down the winding street.

* * *

x

* * *

"Phil," Dan said suddenly, his grip tightening on Phil's hand. "Look."

He was staring at a house, smaller than the rest and nestled almost out of sight between two tall buildings. It looked like all of the others, abandoned and empty. The glass was not broken and it was in good shape; there were even a pair of threadbare grey curtains hanging at the window. It wasn't the curtains Dan was pointing at though, it was the vase sitting on the window sill. Half full of water with a single, red flower drooping limply over the edge of the glass.

"That's a real flower." Dan whispered, trembling. "That can't have been picked more than a few days ago. Someone's here."

Phil squeezed Dan's hand wordlessly, staring around the uninhibited street, his ears pricked and his eyes squinting into the shadows.

"It's a flower, not a gun. They're probably safe." He forced a smile across his face but his voice cracked at the last syllable.

He didn't fool Dan. "Let's go Phil," he whispered.

"Yeah. Good idea," Phil breathed.

They turned together back down the street and Dan stifled a cry.

At the end of the alley stood a figure, half hidden in the shadow.

Silently they turned back around and as they did another figure stepped out from an empty doorway at the far end of the street.

Phil took a deep breath. "Hello." His voice shook audibly.

The figures didn't reply and Dan and Phil took a step back, backing subconsciously up against a wall to keep their eyes on both figures. As they did, they heard a scraping of tiles above their heads. They jumped forwards, spinning round to see a third person crouched silently on the rooftop above their heads. The two figures at either end of the street had moved closer somehow, moving like the wind without flurry of motion or sound.

As Dan and Phil waited with hearts beating furiously in their mouths, a fourth voice spoke from directly behind them.

"City freaks."

They spun round with a cry.

A man stood in the shadow of a shop front, tall and gaunt with small, mean eyes. A thick layer of bristly stubble covered his jaw and his eyebrows were heavy and angled downwards. He spat on the ground in front of them.

"Another pair of psycho happies. Look at them. All pale and pretty and smooth. Eyes so wide and innocent. Yet so clouded. Tell me, kids. Did you like being so happy all the time? So merry and jolly? Preened and pampered all your life? I bet this has come as a bit of a shock, hasn't it? Have you had to kill a precious little bunny rabbit with your bare hands yet? Or are you still fresh from the reek of chemicals."

"The dark haired one has shells around his neck. They've been to the sea. Can't be that fresh." A girl with dark, auburn hair tied harshly back to emphasize her sharp cheekbones had been walking slowly towards them since the man had started talking. "But they're travelling light. Look at their clothes – they haven't seen a winter through yet. A few months maybe."

The man nodded. "I doubt they'll survive the winter. That one's sick." He gestured at Dan and Dan started. He hadn't coughed in hours. Had they been following them?

"Come with us," the man said abruptly.

"Actually we were just about to head off…" Phil trailed off.

Slowly, almost lazily, the man had pulled a long, cruel knife from his jacket and began to twirl it in his hands. Meekly, Phil bowed his head, and the small party set off through the winding streets, Dan and Phil flanked by two harsh faced and lean women.

As they walked, the tall man, who seemed to be the leader of the group, spoke, his voice gravelly.

"We are the survivors. We are the few that stayed behind when you drugheads ran away to your pretty little white bubbles full of fumes and needles and ninety year old supermodels. There used to be hundreds of us. Now there are seven. We are the last pure humans. We are in contact with another, larger group of survivors in Tokyo but their blood has been dirtied. Breeding with the drugheads for survival. We will never sink that low."

"Where are we going?" Dan asked tentatively.

"We're going up high," the bearded man replied. "We're going to show you two stinking drug heads a thing or two."

Phil flashed a panicked glance at Dan who tried half-heartedly to reassure him with a smile. They were moving steadily deeper into the city. The tall warehouses and shops turned into towering skyscrapers and great stone buildings. They passed a statue of a rearing lion that had stood the test of time; tall and proud, staring with cold eyes over the shadowy city.

* * *

x

* * *

It was a skyscraper, taller than the rest, with a cone shaped point at its pinnacle.

"You're lucky we have electricity," the bearded man grinned. "Those stairs are a longway up."

The building had been locked up with heavy metal grills when it was abandoned, but these had been forced open to reveal a sleek, marble-floored and chrome-finished lobby. Everything seemed to be covered in a fine layer of dull, grey dust and the air felt thick and musty in the back of Phil's throat.

The lift whirred without protest into life and the small party crammed themselves into the tight space. Dan and Phil were crushed up against the dark haired girl and she made no attempt to hide her disgust. They rode in a crushingly awkward silence to the very top of the building, 50 stories high. The doors pinged open and they tumbled out, taking in a breath of deliciously fresh air. Where the rest of the tower had been thick and stuffy, a cool breeze whipped around the point of the tower and Phil noticed that several panels of glass had been removed. From here it was easy to see how they'd been spotted and followed through the maze of streets. All around the airy room stood an assortment of telescopes and radars, but it wasn't these to which Phil's eyes were drawn. Periodically placed at each opening in the glass rested the long, thin barrel of a gun.

"You like our guns?" the bearded man sneered, watching their stares. "Only the very finest in long distance sniper artillery. It's amazing what you can find in the basements of abandoned buildings in London if you've got a little time, and we've had sixty years. We used to be quite a sight. The survivors – twenty gunmen and two coordinators stationed up here. Our heat detector spans a three mile radius at full power. We have cars too. There are so many cars, just lying about going rusty. We can afford to be picky. These days we only drive Ferraris. We used to have mobile teams on the ground all coordinated by us here in the tower. There are three strong buildings surrounding this one, and each one was covered by a ten man team. No one could breathe in our district without us knowing it. But the times have changed, and we've been dying. We are the last survivors of the survivors. We're all second generation – born and bred in empty London. Childbirth was the biggest killer of course, but we are living proof that it can work. I'll be forty next month. I can laugh in the face of the sterile zones – because I have more chance than any of them surviving in this world. I still have my immune system, you see. My family never entered a sterile zone. That's why I can stand here next to you without fear. Your boyfriend isn't quite as lucky though, or should I say husband?"

This last statement was directed at Dan and his eyes crinkled into a frown as he took in the implications of what the man was saying. He turned to Phil.

"Oh don't worry," the tall man continued, clearly enjoying himself. "He's not sick yet. It's only a matter of time though. Now. Where was I? Oh yes! You two freaks. You see, at first we used this system to defend ourselves from the looters. The people trying to make it in this world, collecting their supplies. Things turned nasty very quickly when people realised what they needed. It was things like fuel, electricals, generators – the things you can't make out in the middle of the forest. Guns and ammunition. After that, we used it to root out the survivors – find them all and gather them here whether they wanted to or not. If I'd been alive I would have tied them up to stop them wandering off to one of the cities. They went to visit a friend or a relative, just a couple of weeks they said. Just one little pill they said. Next thing you know they're just another zombie with a control pack stuck to their arm, and they're not coming back. Tell me, how does it feel? To walk around all cheerful all the time? To have someone messing with your mind, stopping every emotion you ever experience and plugging you full of suppressors because heaven forbid you feel anything even remotely human. How does it feel to be able to read a tragedy and not shed a tear or even feel the slightest pang in your heart – how does it feel? I'll tell you how it feels – like absolutely nothing thanks to your happy little psychodrugs." His words turned into a roar as he glared with utter loathing into Dan's eyes, his face pressed so close that Dan could feel his hot breath on his neck.

He shuddered, his eyes wide, and took a step back, bringing his palms up and staring incredulously at the man. "You're making no sense, seriously. We didn't have a choice in any of that – we had them since we were babies, I mean Christ – we left."

"You don't understand though, do you? You were test tube babies, the offspring of something so plugged full of chemicals there wasn't a shred of human left in them and then you became the same thing. You're not human. You're not even close, and you never will be. Your children and your children's children and so on forever will never be human because they'll always have just a little shred of zombie in them. You are ruined. Everyone who enters those cities is. Humanity is almost gone. We are the last ones left, and no one will ever understand this pain – not least because they can't feel it."

"Okay, so we've had a few psychotropic drugs in us. But we left, they've all worn off now. Trust me – I know what they feel like, and I know that they're gone. I fell in love, I've travelled and seen some amazing things and I feel pretty human actually," Dan glared, his hand grabbing Phil's almost defensively.

The tall man just laughed. "Human? You don't know the meaning of the word. Have you felt pain? Have you cried tears of anguish? Grief? Have you ever been so scared or revolted or horrified that you passed out or retched? Have you seen suffering? Or suffered yourselves? Emotionally. Devastation, despair, anger, envy… you have barely a taste of the world. We have dogs that are more human than you."

Phil had been silent at Dan's side for most of the exchange but now he spoke up, his voice shaking. "I may not have seen much of the world, but I'm trying to. That's why we left – to try and become human. To feel these things. To experience life, all of it. In response to your questions, my emotions may not be so grand as yours but that doesn't make them any less valid. I feel pain every time I see Dan cough and the pain on his face when he thinks I'm not looking. I cried tears of bliss when I promised my life to him. It's not all those things you said that makes us human, it's love. Because love is suffering. Because you're right, life is full of suffering – but love gives it a reason."

The tall man shook his head slowly, his eyes sad. "You are foolish, boy. Your view of the world is romantic and idealistic and hopelessly unrealistic. Because your husband is going to die. A few months, a year maybe. But then what? You haven't really thought about that. But like it or not, your life doesn't actually revolve around him. You will go on living even when he's dead. What then, boy? Without his love, are you no longer alive? Of course not. If you were to stop loving him it would make you no less living. Whatever you are, you are not built on love. And I'm sorry. But you will have to face that sooner or later. Everything you love will die, and that's the closest you'll ever get to being human. Take them to the holding room."

* * *

x

* * *

The holding room, it transpired, was surprisingly luxurious. Clearly in its time this building had been used by the upper class of businessman. The carpet was plush and the upholstery matte leather and gold gilding. Dan pulled apart the thick curtains (embellished with silk thread to create embroidered yet tasteful white roses) to reveal the staggering view over the city. Once this would have been quite a vista, but now it was clear why the curtains had been closed. From here they were close enough to see the extent of derelict and ruin that had befallen the city, but still high enough up to see all of it. After a moment, Dan closed the curtains. He turned back to Phil.

"Well. What do you think they want with us?"

Phil shrugged. He was sat on the leather sofa with his head in his hands. The room contained two sofas, a mattress, a desk and armchair and a small but modish bathroom off to one side. There was no way out bar the sheer 600ft drop from the windows and the door was thick wood bolted securely from the outside.

"I'm scared Dan," Phil mumbled. "What are they going to do with us? That man, he's just so angry. So bitter. He's crazy Dan. But he's pure human. Is that what we were like before we started using psychodrugs? Is that what we'll become if we go travelling and stuff?"

"They're all crazy. I would be too, living here. I think that's the biggest thing I've learnt." Phil continued. "The thing that makes us human is the variety. Everyone we've met has been so different and individual and amazing in their own right, like Leia and Cal and their crazy sex all the time and Garth and Sue with their love and amazing cooking skills and the settlers with all their work and their passion and their skills and hobbies and talents. And Pyruvar, ruling over them like a proud, slightly terrifying vulture. And then there's Edgar and Greyson. Being alone didn't do them any good, but then being together didn't do these guys any good. Did you hear them talking on the way down? They dream of wiping out all the impure humans on Earth so that the pures have no choice but to breed with one another. They literally dream of genocide and if that isn't terrifying, I don't know what is."

"Basically we took psychodrugs to calm us down a bit then didn't we." Dan grinned. "Humans are pretty extreme. I'm sure we're a lot easier to handle when we can just be herded around like cheerful, compliant cattle. This life isn't for everyone. Some people would be really unhappy out here, they like the security and comfort of contentedness. And I mean that's how it started isn't it? Antidepressents and anxyolytics and antimanics and all the other antis for the people with actual mental disorders. But the drugs got better and better and it became harder to decide when someone was too sad and needed help because everyone felt sad sometimes and no one wanted to feel sad. So the drug companies delivered, and no one felt sad anymore." Dan shrugged. "You've got to feel sorry for these guys and at least understand them a little bit," he said, gesturing to the door where two survivors stood guard silently outside. "If it had happened all at once everyone would have been just as horrified as them and no one would have taken the drugs. But it happened so slowly. We were teased into it and it was never anything but normal. It must have been quite terrifying for the people on the outside, just watching their friends slowly slipping into a blissful peace and just not caring about anything anymore. The people out here care so much. They're passionate and vibrant and just so alive and I love it Phil. Seriously. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. If it all ends here and they throw us off the roof or something I still wouldn't regret a minute of it because it's been amazing. Me and you. The whole world. I've seen the sea. An almost desert. A waterfall. A mountain. Forests and flowers and beautiful fruits. And I did it all with you. And then I married you. It's been amazing." Something caught in the back of his throat and he choked. "It's been amazing Phil."

Phil stood, taking Dan into his arms and holding his shaking shoulders against his chest. "Tears," he said softly. "Just like you'd always wanted, the thing that started us on this whole crazy adventure."

"I cried on our wedding day," Dan sobbed.

"So did I, buckets. Those were happy tears though – you were after sad ones."

"These aren't sad tears though. They're not happy, but they're not sad either." Dan's voice was muffled by Phil's shirt.

"Yeah," Phil sighed, his voice quieter still. "I get the feeling those will come sooner or later."

* * *

x

x

x

x

x

xx

* * *

_**a/n**__ I wrote this for the phandom big bang and started running out of time about chapter 12, so things suddenly move very quickly and there's only like 2 chapters left. sorry omg, at some point i may come back and rewrite from 12 to the end to make it a bit less melodramatic and more believable laughs anyway thank you so, so much to anyone who's been reviewing - it literally means the world to me especially as this is a bit of a weird story for fanfiction whoops~_


	15. Chapter 14

_(sorry)_

* * *

The seven survivors dined together every evening. This was the only time Dan and Phil were brought out of their room and the dark haired man insisted on sitting in between them; he seemed to get a quiet satisfaction out of it. They never found out his name, though they asked several times. He just replied with phrases like 'We are the wanderers' or scarier still 'We are the Avengers.' The topic of the settlers at the Ark came up several times, the two groups remaining in contact through Pyruvar.

"I have a lot of respect for that woman," the tall man mused. "She understands the value of purity. She's deranged though, poor soul. She believes that it can be achieved. She doesn't understand that it's already been lost. Did you meet Madeleine? She's her pride and joy. She'll be due soon – I expect we'll get a messenger through to let us know. Pyruvar thinks she can persuade one of us to breed with the baby - once it's grown of course. She's been begging us to breed with them for years. She clings to the hope that they can be saved. Alas." He shook his head sadly.

As he had predicted just three days later a cry went up from the watchtower that a figure approached. Dan and Phil were not allowed out, but later one of the women came to their door to tell them that the settlers were rejoicing – Madeleine had given birth to a baby girl, and both mother and child were well. Dan could only imagine Pyruvar's joy. The Survivors had all been invited to the celebrations but had politely declined the invitation. As he lay on the thin mattress staring at the stars through the open curtains, Dan longed for the sweet tang of the sea and the crackle and warmth of the bonfire.

* * *

x

* * *

"What do you want with us?!"

It was an evening like any other, they sat in the watchtower quietly eating their meals with both Dan and Phil flanked by armed but silent Survivors. Phil wasn't sure how long they'd been locked away, hours of crushing boredom rolling into days and then weeks. But he had reached breaking point and now he exploded – flinging his bowl across the room and revelling silently in the delicious sound of the china smashing on a glossy white wall.

The tall man sniggered. "Dear dear. Are our little lovebirds getting fractious all cooped up? The love nest a little uncomfortable these days? Your tune has certainly changed. You used to be the quiet little songbird. And I'm afraid I can't tell you, at least not yet. We are preparing for something. And we need you. Besides, you should be grateful. Your dear boyfriend's getting quite sick now, isn't he? We're looking after him, keeping him warm and safe and giving him nice, wholesome food. Making sure he rests."

And it was true. Dan had been growing paler and paler as the days progressed. No amount of Greyson's medicine had been able to shift the cough; and this morning he had thrown up violently and repetitively into the toilet.

"He doesn't need rest! He needs freedom and pure, fresh air," Phil yelled back furiously. "This whole city is sick! The air is thick with disease and you're all mad, we're not the ones with head problems here!"

"And yet you're the ones throwing food across the room and screaming," the tall man said, amused. "Well. Since you've clearly finished your meal I believe it's time for bed. Goodnight, friends."

* * *

The next evening they were not called up to dinner, and a storm raged all night, howling through the rooftops and rattling the glass on the windows.

* * *

"A woman has just entered the city from the south east border." The cry went up while they were eating in the tower and the tall man looked up in surprise from his soup.

"Is she alone?" he asked.

"Definitely. She's – wait, I think that's one of the Ark people. Yes, one of the young ones. Her clothes are ripped and torn though and she's missing half the shells from her necklace."

The tall man frowned. "Send someone out to pick her up. Must be a messenger, but who or what did she meet along the way that left her in that state?" He rose swiftly to his feet. "Power up the heat sensors, we need to be on full alert."

They seemed to have forgotten about Dan and Phil and for that they were glad. Dan's eyes were alight with the prospect of meeting one of their friends again. Maybe the news that they were held captive would return to the Ark and some sort of gallant rescue party would charge forth. But then he caught site of the bleak, dark metal of the guns and his heart sank again. The settlers knew of their defences – they would not be so stupid as to attempt a rescue for the sake of two men who had given them nothing.

* * *

x

* * *

The girl's eyes bulged as she spotted Dan and Phil.

"Yasmin!" Phil beamed in greeting, and suddenly her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh God. You're alive. You're so lucky that you left. They're all dead Phil – all of them! We were on the beach celebrating the birth of baby Annie. I've never seen Pyruvar so happy. She was singing and dancing and we built a fire bigger than any I've ever seen. Pyruvar sings like a songbird – I had no idea. It was so beautiful. We were all there, every last one of us, around this tiny, beautiful little baby. Only born last week. So much hope. She survived, and so did Madeleine. New life. All dead. Oh Phil. It came on us out of nowhere. A storm like nothing I've ever seen before. It was terrifying; the lightning and the wind and the rain and the thunder that sounded like the world was ending. They all ran to the Ark for shelter but I didn't make it in time and the doors were shut. I thought I was dead so i just curled up in a ball and waited for the end, but it didn't come and I saw it all. Waves came rolling in 50 feet high. They picked up the Ark like it was no more than a matchbox in the storm. Smashed. Destroyed completely. All of them dead. Even baby Annie. Her little party dress washed to shore all covered in blood and I couldn't bear to look at it. They're all dead. All our work was for nothing. Oh god. There are no survivors." She fell to the floor, and the watchtower was silent.

As the soft patter of rain began to fall on the windows Dan and Phil's wish was granted, and rain fell on their cheeks.

* * *

x

* * *

The next morning, Dan threw up blood.

Phil hammered on the door screaming until finally it swung open to reveal the tall man, angry and bleary eyed with sleep.

"He's sick." Phil sobbed. "You have to help. He needs medicine. He needs air."

"He was sick before he came here. He was doomed a long time ago."

The door slammed shut in his face.

* * *

x

* * *

That evening, when they were called for dinner, Phil stepped out into the hall but before Dan could follow the dark haired girl appeared from behind the door, slamming it shut and sliding the bolt across with a gut wrenching click of surety. Phil didn't even have time to make a sound before he was dragged frozen into the lift and the metal doors slid silently shut.

"So. Phil." The tall man sat across the table to where Phil was held to his seat by two burly men and a thick coil of rope.

"Why are you doing this to us?" he choked.

"We have been monitoring Dan's condition since he entered the city. It has now progressed to the stage where it could potentially be contagious. We're fine, we have immune systems. You, however, do not, so must be removed." His eyes were cold and emotionless.

As the implications of his words started to sink in, Phil's breathing came out fast and ragged as he fought for air. "No!" he screamed. "You can't do that! You're not just going to leave him in there to die?!"

The tall man sighed, pushing back his chair and standing up. He turned his back on Phil, staring out across the ruined city. "You haven't been very observant Phil. Did you not wonder why we brought you up here every evening to eat? I assure you it wasn't because we enjoyed your company. It was because we had to be sure we knew exactly what you were eating. Had we given you your evening soup as we did the other three meals, in your room that is, you might have shared. This way I was in between you and so you ate your own meals and only your own meals. In any other setting you might have become suspicious and refused to eat, and so we were forced to endure your presence."

"What do you mean? What was in our soup?!" Phil gasped.

"In your soup was tomato, potato and a selection of herbs." The tall man turned and surveyed Phil through beady eyes. "Dan was already dying, and we had a poison to test."

Phil's jaw dropped, his eyes wide with horror.

"Not your average poison you must understand, that would be no use to us. Bacteria. A bacterial infection that was enough to kill those with weakened immune systems but would not be harmful to the pure humans. Obviously you're not pure and we need you so we had to remove you. You will not see your husband again. We can't risk you telling him not to eat, and this way we can advance the infection without fear of you too eating the contaminated food. Our biologist is unsure how long it will take. It could be a matter of days if it gets into any of his major organs and, judging by the blood in his vomit, it's done just that. We apologise for your loss, but it is necessary for the greater good of humanity. The only way we will survive as a pure race is if we breed carefully but quickly. We need planes to reach the rest of the world and the technology to fuel the new race. Tokyo is first, we've already set up the connection. This is why we need you. You're relatively fresh and with a bit of convincing they will let you back in. Once New London has been reduced to ash, we can fly."

"I won't do it," Phil whispered. "I'll tell them what you're planning."

"We intend to cut out your tongue." The tall man raised an amused eyebrow.

"They'd cover me in disinfectant as soon as I got anywhere near!"

"Not a problem, we have a way round that. As an educated man I think you'll appreciate it, it's really quite ingenious."

"How can you do that? Murder billions of people all across the globe? How could youlive with yourselves after that?"

"People? They are not human, I doubt they can be called people either. Rebuilding humanity from the ashes of failure. I have hope."

"There is nothing honourable about what you're doing. They may not be human in your eyes, but they're pretty damn close. I have felt both anguish and grief now, and in my personal opinion I have more humanity in me than you ever will." Phil spat.

"In an ideal world I would allow people like you to live, maybe, as a reformed human. Not allowed to taint the gene pool by breeding of course, but allowed to exist. The bacteria cannot distinguish reformation. Unfortunate I know. A second generation may have made it, they'd certainly have more of an immune system. The Ark people came close but that dream is over now." He surveyed Phil's shuddering form with a sigh. "You think we are cruel. If there was another way, any other way, we would chose it. But we need their food and their technology and their planes if we want to stand any chance at surviving and repopulating. It is revenge to start with New London. You can see the glow of their lights from here at night, have you noticed? We went to them many times for help. We asked to fly. And then we asked for food and fuel and medicine, but they wouldn't even look at us. They said it was unnatural to choose suffering. How can they even speak the word?! They turned us away. I hope you will grow to understand us. Until then, however, you must be contained. I am truly sorry to have had to treat you like this, but we cannot let you communicate with the patient – the results of this experiment are vital. It will be a long time before we can put our plan into action, and I doubt I will need to speak with you again until then. Goodbye, Phil Lester. My condolences for your loss."

x 

The End

* * *

xx

xx

* * *

(just kidding)


	16. Epilogue

Phil wasn't sure how long he'd been locked in that tiny, windowless storeroom. Without any light it was impossible to track the passing of time, so instead he just stared at the white walls and wept.

* * *

Long after the tears had dried on his cheeks, the door was opened and light flooded the tiny room. A woman stood in the frame with a tray of food. She crouched down next to Phil and gently tipped water from a bottle into his mouth, seeming to know instinctively that he wouldn't - couldn't - move by himself.

"If it gives you any peace of mind," She said quietly. "It won't work. His master plan, that is. World domination and all that. Not least because it's totally unfeasible. In all honesty I haven't got a clue how to get the bacteria past the gates. I tell him something different every day and he just swallows it. It's sad really. It has consumed him so much he can barely think straight."

She continued to feed Phil small scraps of bread soaked in broth.

"I'm sorry about your husband. If he had been healthy I wouldn't have done it I swear. But I've seen his sickness before, and he didn't have long left. Have hope though. We are talking of leaving the city. We have grown tired of the pain it brings us. Every stinking building reminds us of the friends and family we have lost, and the whole place is so crushing. If we do decide to go, we will have to restrain him somehow. He would go straight to the guns and take us all down rather than see us abandon his cause. There was a time when we might have had a chance. That time has passed, and we most of us have given up. You will stand a good chance of getting away while we fight, and I wish you all the best of luck in your life."

"What about Dan?" Phil croaked.

Her expression clouded. "Of course, Dan too." She said gently.

"I'll take him to the city. They will be able to cure him. He's going to be okay." Phil's voice was turning feverish, his body trembling.

"Yes." The girl said quietly, but her voice faltered.

* * *

x

* * *

Phil was asleep when they came for him, and he woke with a cry.

"Go now," the girl whispered. "He is sleeping, and the others are too busy planning to care about you. Head north but avoid the plains."

Phil stumbled to his feet, clutching the wall for support. "Where are you going?" He croaked. "We need to get Dan."

"Yes… Dan," she said hesitantly. "Phil. Dan has had a lot of bacteria in his system. I doubt… I mean, I just want you to know, if he didn't make it, that his passing would have been quick and with very little pain."

"We need to go get Dan." Phil insisted through gritted teeth.

She nodded, her expression pitiful, and they set off down the corridor.

Phil almost fell through the door when it was opened, his eyes wide and straining to adjust to the dark. He spotted Dan immediately: Spread eagled on the mattress and breathing slowly.

"Dan." He whispered, rushing forwards and sinking to the floor to cradle the boy in his arms. "Oh, Dan." He choked.

The woman bit her lip, crouching down to subtly take his pulse. The beat was feeble, but most definitely there. "He's alive." She said, surprised.

"Of course he's alive." Phil hissed, peppering Dan's face with kisses.

"Phil?" Dan's voice was almost inaudible.

"It's okay, Dan. I'm here. They've been poisoning you. Oh god. All this time and I didn't know and I didn't do anything about it, I just thought you were sick." Phil sobbed.

"I am sick." Dan muttered. "I feel like death."

Beside them, the woman blanched.

"You're not going to die," Phil said angrily. "Come on, time to go. We're free Dan! We never have to come back to this horrible place ever again."

"You need to hurry." The woman said quietly. "I will leave you now. Phil-"

She seemed to bite her tongue before leaning down to whisper in his ear. "Even before we interfered, he was dying Phil. It had moved into his chest. He had a month at most. Much of that month has gone. I doubt there's anything in the city that can help him now, you'd be better off trying to ease his passing and enjoying the time you have left together."

"No!" Phil screamed, and Dan jumped in surprise. "You're crazy. You're wrong. Get away from us!" Tears stung Phil's vision and he jumped to his feet, dragging Dan up behind him.

Without a word, the woman turned and left, with just the smallest glint of moisture in her eye.

* * *

x

* * *

They walked slowly and with many stumbles all through the night. As the first rays of pale, morning light appeared on the horizon their feet hit grass and their lungs filled with the fresh scent of woodland. They had left the ruined city, and dawn had broken.

Birdsong filled the air and Dan walked unaided and with new found energy towards the trees, placing his hand almost avidly against the rough bark.

"I thought I was never going to see the trees again." He said hoarsely.

"I thought I was never going to see you again." Phil mumbled in reply.

Suddenly, Dan turned to Phil as if remembering something. "Did you say they'd been poisoning me, or was I imagining things?"

Phil bit his lip. "They were crazy. They wanted to kill all the cityborns. They made like a bacteria poison that they were testing on you – that's why they took me away. They needed me to get it into the city so they couldn't let me get sick."

Dan nodded slowly. "I'm going to die, aren't I."

"No. I won't let you."

"Okay. Look Phil, sunrise."

The grey morning light bled through the trees and behind them the first hints of yellow and pale pink were tinting the sky. Shafts of light reached up into the clouds, and the morning dawned cool and fresh on Dan's skin.

"I feel better now, Phil. Really I do. Maybe it's the fresh air. But I'd never felt so sick and so awful before in my life. It was hell I swear. I vomited so much there wasn't anything left to throw up so I was spewing like this yellow goo. It hurt so bad."

Phil pulled Dan into a hug. They had seen so many beautiful sunsets in their travels, but this was the first time they'd been able to properly appreciate a sunrise. In the evenings blood oranges dragged the day slowly and vibrantly over the horizon to die. The morning however broke with pastels and promise.

* * *

x

* * *

The golden light seemed to have ignited the birds into a chorus of melodies, and together Dan and Phil walked through the trees to the sound of a thousand tiny voices raised in song.

"Phil." Dan said suddenly. "I feel really, really better. Like, I haven't felt this good since before we found the Ark. I feel, I dunno, rejuvenated. Do you think… do you think I might be getting better? That maybe the stuff they gave me made me throw up so much I got rid of all the bacteria in me?"

"I dunno," said Phil, unconvinced. "I'm not sure it really works that way."

"Wel,l maybe the poison fought off the bacteria? I know it sounds stupid but I feel amazing now." Dan stared earnestly into Phil's eyes.

"I really don't know, I'm sorry." Phil said helplessly. "The woman who let us go… she said that once it got into your chest it was fatal, like, not even the city could save you."

"I really don't think it's in my chest anymore though." Dan said, his eyes wide. "I know what it felt like. It was like, a scratching tickling that made it hard to breathe. Like there was something tied around my chest. But it's gone now. Completely gone! It's like a miracle."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Do you think… do you think you might be okay then, like, really better?"

"I think so."

"Oh my god. Dan. We're free."

"We're really free. We're free from those people. They were just so angry all the time. A bit like Edgar, but not the same. He hated us because we were happy. He wouldn't have hated us when we were trapped in that tower. But he'll hate us now. Because we're free again. And it's like the man said, we've experienced it all now. Suffering, grief…" Dan froze.

"Phil. We broke our promise to Hetta. We never went back." Suddenly his eyes filled with tears all over again. "Jesus," He muttered. "I don't think I'll ever be able to forget about those people. They were amazing. Phil, where do we go now?"

"Everywhere." Phil said fiercely. "It's humanity. It's angry and jealous and greedy and proud and all the other things and it suffers for it. It's fragile. We've seen it break. But I think it's beautiful all the same."

"I know." Dan stared softly into Phil's eyes. "By the way, I love you."

"I love you too." Phil smiled, but the words caught in the back of his throat and he coughed, a strange prickling sensation in his chest.


	17. Author Note and Explanations

okay putting links in here is almost impossible so i'm going to link to the version of this bit on my tumblr where all the links i'm talking about are: isthisjustphantasy dot tumblr dot com/post/75591081806/eudaimonia-author-note-thing

To explain a couple of things and stuff idk man

Firstly (as Gina noticed when beta-ing) i kinda gave up on geography.

Linked is a map I drew out of their journey so as to picture it in my head and vaguely get compass points right I google mapped it and the journey from london to the sea takes 12 hours on foot so like it's vaguely feasible i guess laughs (some unimportant towns may have been obliterated by a mountain and a desert… ahem. global warming man)

Secondly as far as the science was concerned it was mildly accurate - i'm writing a dissertation about the type of drugs they were taking to control their emotions/mental state, and my friend is writing hers on the resistance to antibiotics that is pretty much happening now and is actually scary wow (see link)

Thirdly prizes to anyone who figures out the significance of the people they met on their journey, I'm not sure how obvious I made it so idk man

Finally as a couple of people have guessed this was much more of a book idea than a fanfiction idea as it was generally too much for the time limit but i got it done even if it wasn't quite what i was after. I'm considering a prequel though so let me know if you're interested in more of Dan and Phil's life in the city and their meeting ^^

Linked is the amazing artwork people have done for this fic

**Things that have come up since posting:**

ending confusion? If you enjoyed the happy ending and accepted it as closure, stop reading. If not, maybe read the last line again. Stop reading here if you don't want the last bit of explanation, i'm giving you fair warning you really might not want it as it made people angry on tumblr

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Dan is still sick. I mean, come on, did you really buy that crap about bad bacteria cancelling each other out? Biologically it just would never work. He's pretending, if you like, to make Phil feel better so they can enjoy their last moments together, because Phil is also sick (you might have noticed from the way he was acting). They are both fully aware that they are both dying, so they talk about their future and happy things to make it all a bit easier.

I realise it may have come on a bit suddenly but what did you expect man i mean from the offset i told u they'd left to die together and now they are and it's pretty and there's a sunrise and they got what they wanted i mean it's arguable as to whether or not they ever achieved eudaimonia but they certainly discovered humanity and themselves so don't be too sad okay :c thank you so much for reading there's only a few of you compared to other fics but that's what i expected bc of the unusual genre and you all make me so happy like i literally know all the usernames of the people that comment and i've been waiting till you all see the chapter before posting the next one laughs ily thank you for being so awesome and i hope you enjoyed even if it got a bit weird at the end *hugs*


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